Frozen Heart
by Chemiclord
Summary: A practice character development tale, Elsa's loneliness slowly spirals into an early depression while Anna and those close to her grow increasingly worried. But a bolster to her spirits eventually comes from an unlikely place, far beyond the seas.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: This is actually something I'm posting to show some friends and followers how I've used fanfiction in the past as a bit of a development board for different ideas to see how they formulate into prose._

_This particular piece I started toying after seeing Frozen in theaters for the first time (yeah, this is the sort of backlog I have people). In this case, people who have read Dire Water, you can actually see the origins of Admiral Ahmin in Amon._

_And that's what fanfiction has become for me, really. A test board if you will, finding out what works and what doesn't before committing the styles and techniques to my "professional" work._

_P.S. I honestly don't know when or even if I'll finish this. I try to respect the vision of the original creators when I do fanfiction, and with the announcement of Frozen 2, I would feel like I'm being one of "those fans" who say, "I know your creation better than you. Let me show you how its done."_

_On the other... I really like how the story shaped up to this point._

**Act 1: Elsa**

It was a mild winter for Arendelle, barely a thin blanket of snow covered the courtyard, not nearly enough for a snowman, though the pair Elsa was watching was certainly giving it their best shot.

She watched Anna and Kristoff's antics, seemingly alone, and unaware of the Queen on the balcony above.

The pair had been nigh inseparable the last month since their wedding, a grand gala that had certainly brought great cheer to the small kingdom, and the potential continuation of the royal line with the Queen steadfastly unattached.

Elsa didn't want to call it jealousy, but couldn't think of a better word to describe what she was feeling. Anna giggled as her husband gently tackled her, their efforts in snowman building forgotten. A spiteful part of Elsa wanted to dump a good foot of snow on their heads, but she quickly forced such thoughts down.

"Even the smallest shift can start a destructive avalanche." Elsa repeated to herself as she retreated from the balcony and into the throne room. While Pabbie wasn't a frost mage (the supposed term for magic users such as herself), the gentle troll provided what wisdom he could to help the Queen harness her formidable powers.

The world had already seen Elsa losing control of her emotions. It probably wouldn't survive experiencing an Elsa that had surrendered to the most base and despicable parts of herself... and it was a road she wasn't going to let herself entertain even for minor pranks.

Perhaps that was being overly careful, but that was better than not taking the dangers seriously enough. Besides, it wasn't _their _fault they were happy. They _should _be. Considering who Anna practically (and possibly literally) threw herself at, the girl was _lucky _to have found such a strong relationship, and had every reason to embrace it.

It was fortunate that Elsa had given all non-essential palace staff a free day due to the "snowfall," though in fairness she had expected the coming storm to be much more severe than it had been. She really didn't like other people seeing her moping and morose, especially when she really didn't have the right to be.

It was partially _her _fault that she didn't have that same sort of connection that Anna and Kristoff did, after all. There wasn't exactly a shortage of young handsome men eager to forge a political and marital alliance with the unattached queen of the prosperous kingdom, after all, and she was reasonably certain most of them were nothing like that snake Hans... even if she pretended they weren't.

But she hadn't even _tried _to meet the courtiers even halfway, behavior that Anna would support with an amused shake of her head. "Give it time. When you find the person right for you, you'll just... know it," the younger sibling would say without the slightest hint of irony... even if she _was _right.

"Easy for her to say, having met the 'right person' twice after fifteen minutes." The queen grumbled out loud in response to the memory as she slumped into the throne in a way that the retainers would have no doubt found terribly undignified.

"Hey, your highness!" Olaf said cheerfully, rounding the corner of one of the royal entrances to the right side of the throne. "I thought I heard someone in here!"

Elsa only turned a pair of warning eyes in his direction. Anna had _far _more affection for the enchanted snowman than Elsa did, who found him mildly amusing at best, and an annoyance at worst. The queen suspected, considering her mood, that he'd be closer to the latter than the former at this moment.

"Whoa... are you okay?" Olaf asked in concern. "Are you sick? You don't look so good."

"I'm fine." Elsa replied flatly, hoping that the snowman would get the hint, even as she knew he was atrocious at reading body language.

His worry was already forgotten by the time he asked happily, "So, have you decided what flavor cake you're gonna want for your birthday?"

Elsa blinked rapidly, mentally counting down the days, and bit her tongue to keep herself from saying something vulgar. "That's tomorrow..." she mumbled to herself. She had completely forgotten.

"Yep!" Olaf confirmed, "Anna has a wonderful book of north legends she compiled from all across the land to give to you, but I can't tell you that, because it's a _surprise_."

Elsa clenched her eyes shut, even though she wasn't particularly upset to learn this. She was more annoyed that Anna still hadn't figured out that if you wanted to keep a secret, Olaf was the last person or thing you should tell it to.

"So... what flavor would you like your cake to be?" Olaf asked again. "The cook wants to know."

Elsa gave a flat smile, and said, "Surprise me."

Olaf spun about, and said airily, "Oh, I love surprises! Like the restored crown that the smith's guild is going to give you tomorrow!"

The queen really, really tried not to roll her eyes. She failed.

Olaf then narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and he asked, "Are you _sure _you're okay? I mean, sure, you're usually gloomy, but it seems..."

Elsa pointed at her door and ordered sharply, "Out."

The enchanted snowman wasn't always the sharpest pick in the shed, but he also knew exactly who kept him from turning into a puddle come spring. If the queen made an order, it was best obeyed. "Righty! I'll... just... be... going now!" he said, then dashed away as fast as his stubby legs could carry him.

Elsa returned to her slouch, chastising herself for looking so morose that even _Olaf _picked up on it. It was even more silly because she knew she had no reason to be so down. She was a _queen_, well liked by her people, living comfortably in a land with mild temperatures, even in the dead of winter and the heart of summer, beautiful scenery and a wonderful family, as odd as they could be.

She was _blessed_, and to be perfectly frank, she didn't really deserve it considering how she nearly _killed _her sister... twice at that... and put the land that adored her in a freeze while she ignored their plight for days.

And yet...

She made her way back to the balcony, where Kristoff and Anna were still frolicking, now resorting to a snowball fight, no doubt over some perceived slight on Kristoff's part.

_ There is this shroud over me, a dark place only I see..._

_ Twisting my soul, wrenching my heart, __poisoning the words I want to say__..._

_Nowhere to run from this pain, it eats away inside of me,_

_ What right to do I have to feel this way?_

_ Where is my happy ending?_

_ When will I feel complete?_

_ Where is the happy ending..._

_ For me?_

The couple's tumble stopped with Anna laying on top of Kristoff, pecking him on the nose playfully.

_ I long to walk side by side, hand in hand with another..._

_ To share life, a devoted soul, one that will not judge my bitter past..._

_Do I deserve to be happy? To feel warm and be secure?_

_ Is it wrong for me to ask?_

_ Where is my happy ending?_

_ When will I __deserve the same__?_

_ Where is the happy ending..._

_ For me?_

Elsa retreated from the balcony again, steeling her lip from trembling as she retreated completely from the throne room and into her chambers. She couldn't quite hold back every tear, and silently reprimanded herself for the show of selfishness, even if no one saw it.

Except someone did. Anna had actually seen it since her wedding to Kristoff... a slow spiral into ever increasing melancholy.

"Sweetie, I'm worried about Elsa."

Kristoff, to his credit, had learned quickly not to stick his oar in when it came to the sisters. But even he had sensed the queen's slowly building gloom.

"She's lonely." Anna continued, "And I feel like I'm not doing enough."

"What _can _you do that you haven't done already?" Kristoff asked. "You can't _make _people like her."

Kristoff was referring to Anna's attempts at matchmaking, usually with any man she deemed "cute" and "understanding." Said "understanding" tended to stop shortly after said young men realized Anna was referring to "The Snow Queen of Arendelle." Elsa inevitably blamed herself for pushing them away, but away from Elsa's ears, Kristoff knew what was being said.

Weselton's leaders were hardly the only ones who considered the queen a monster, it turned out.

And finding a match within Arendelle hadn't born much better fruit. While Queen Elsa was certainly liked well enough in a general sense, the citizens of the small kingdom preferred admiring her from a distance, and were intimidated getting close.

"But..."

"I think she's going to have to find her own way, and we need be there for her as much as we can." Kristoff said. He tried not to be annoyed that talk of Elsa had ruined the mood.

Anna slumped her shoulders in defeat, as if sensing her husband's annoyance. "I'm sorry. I know that it's not fair to you that I'm constantly worrying about her."

Kristoff put an arm around those shoulders, and hugged her warmly, "I know by now that not even I can get between you two. I understand I'm second on your list, and I accept that."

He was rewarded with a peck on the cheek. "When did you get so smart?"

"Talking with Sven will do that."

From the far end of the courtyard, the reindeer lifted his head upon hearing his name. Deciding it couldn't be important, he settled back down to continue his nap.

Anna nodded in understanding, "Sven is probably the smartest person here. I suppose we should take his advice."

Kristoff enveloped his wife. "I know it's hard to see someone close to you hurting. But we have to believe it'll get better. Elsa's strong. She'll smile and laugh and be happy again. Like maybe... tomorrow... during a birthday celebration?"

Anna's eyes bulged. "We still need to set up the chairs... and I have to finish wrapping the book! And the cake! The cook still hasn't decided what flavor it's going to be!"

The princess broke out of Kristoff's hold and rushed back into the palace. He exhaled slowly, and said, "Well, at least her panic is focused on something she can do something about, right?"

Sven lifted his head again, huffed once and Kristoff swore the reindeer rolled his eyes.

Kristoff walked over to Sven, and patted him on the head. Some things really didn't need to be said.

* * *

Anna had been determined to give Elsa a heartwarming birthday celebration, considering the effort Elsa and Kristoff had put into the younger sister's parties. Anna wanted to show Elsa that the queen was loved and had people who cared about her.

The great hall was filled to capacity, with barely enough space for a dance floor in the center.

Elsa played the part well enough, even though she didn't dance, smiling and genuinely thankful for the gifts presented to her. Though Anna could see the emptiness lingering in the queen's eyes.

Elsa looked reproachful when the smiths presented her with a restoration of the crown that she had discarded during the drama of her initial coronation, placing it on her forehead even as Anna could tell that she would have liked to do anything else.

Anna understood why. There was a lifetime of pain represented in that crown.

"My turn now, dear sister," Anna said with a bright warm smile, and for the first time in a while Anna could see her sister respond positively, a flicker of brightness in the queen's eyes that Anna wanted to stoke so very badly. Anna handed over the ice blue wrapped gift, and Elsa grinned at the painfully obvious book as she opened it.

"There have been many legends throughout the years in this region," Anna said. "But they've never actually been compiled. I know how much you adore the stories in this land, and I'm hoping there are a few in there that even _you _haven't heard yet. There's even a handful about frost mages..." Anna let her voice drop off, knowing _that _would pique Elsa's interest.

And it did. The queen's eyebrows rose and her smile broadened. As far as she knew, she was the only such person with magical powers anywhere nearby. While she knew that there had been others long ago, she hadn't known much about them or how they managed to harness the powers that she had to cope with by herself and with little instruction.

Elsa surprised Anna by lunging out of her seat, and hugging Anna happily. "Thank you so much," the queen said with truly genuine gratitude, then whispered in Anna's ear, "I am so lucky to have people like you."

"There's no luck about it, sister," Anna replied, "You deserve me and more."

A guard slipped into the hall quietly, which seemed silly considering he then raised his voice to get Elsa's attention. "My queen? The trolls are here and wish to see you."

Instantly, the gathering hushed. While the people of Arendelle knew about the trolls, and knew that said trolls had fairly significant roles in the fact that both royal women were alive and well today, the gentry regarded those trolls with a similar attitude to Queen Elsa, admired at a distance but otherwise out of sight and out of mind.

Elsa found this behavior more than a little annoying, but kept her distaste buried as she said comfortably, "Show them in."

The double doors parted, and the procession began. Thankfully, they didn't roll through in rock form, instead taking a surprisingly ordered two rows led by Pabbie, dressed as formally as trolls can be. They were clearly on their best behavior, and both Anna and Elsa were thankful for that.

The crowd parted and cleared to the perimeter of the hall, though whether out of respect for the arrivals or fear or a little of both was unclear. Nor did Elsa give it too much thought as the procession stopped in front of the queen and knelt respectfully.

"Your highness, we come here to pay our respects for another glorious year of your rule," Pabbie declared.

Elsa's smile broadened, and she hopped out of the throne to beg the old troll to stand. "Oh please, do not be so formal! Welcome!"

The trolls visibly relaxed, guts slowly rolling down towards the floor and red suits popping open as the creatures sighed with relief. "That does not mean we should not be on our best behavior." Pabbie warned his kin, no doubt (justifiably) fearing they would get a bit too rowdy in the still tense environment.

"Your highness, we will not dally," Pabby said, more to assure the rest of the partygoers than Elsa. "However, we do have a gift to you, found in the mountains to the north, a gift that is best served in your hands."

Pabbie reached into his vest, and pulled out a small black leather drawstring bag, offering it with both hands to Elsa. She took it, pulled open the drawstring, then gasped. Anna and Kristoff flanked the queen and looked over her shoulder in hopes of catching a peak themselves.

It was a crystal, shaped in a teardrop, and mounted to a golden setting and chain, a translucent blood red with overlapping interior facets and a pale blue glow in the center the moment Elsa's fingers brushed its smooth surface.

"That is a Dragon's Tear," Pabbie explained, "Formed from the blood of the oldest of dragons back when the great beasts still lived, long before humans arrived."

Elsa had heard tales of dragons, and giants and other magical creatures, supposedly seen when men sailed the waters thousands of years ago, but gone by the time the first people actually settled and explored the region. "It's beautiful..."

Pabbie added. "Dragons were innately magical creatures, and their blood used in many ancient potions and spells. The tears are relics that can increase the scope of a mages' power tremendously, and as such, should only be used carefully. You have reached a point in your powers and your control of them that is it safe for you to have."

Elsa managed to break her concentration long enough to look at Pabbie, and breathlessly say, "Thank you... thank you so much..."

"As always, if you need advice, I am here for you. Come now, children. Let the humans continue their celebrations."

Anna tried not to be jealous as the trolls retreated, and presumably back to their valley. She failed as she saw Elsa enraptured by the jewel, the chain already around her neck, holding the Dragon's Tear in her cupped hands, her book already forgotten on the arm rest of the throne. But at the same time, seeing a look of wonder (or anything other than sadness) on her sister's face was something Anna was thankful for.

The younger sister knew she could take her victories where she could get them. Even if it meant her efforts were pushed aside. Elsa noticed her sister, hovering at her side, and gently brushed Anna's hand. "Are you angry?"

"I shouldn't be," Anna replied.

Elsa said reassuringly, "Your gift is every bit as valuable to me, Anna."

Anna wanted to be reassured by her sister's words. "Don't worry about it. I can't blame you. That _is _beautiful."

Then Elsa frowned, and Anna could see the queen slip back into the beginnings of the fugue that tormented her. "It will fade. Everything does."

Anna quickly forgot her jealousy, kneeling down next to Elsa, desperate to shake her sister out of what was coming. "But _not _today," Anna insisted, closing Elsa's hands around the blood red crystal. "_Today_, enjoy everything. _Please._"

Elsa gave Anna a wan smile. "I'll... I'll try."

At that point, the chefs wheeled out the cake, a three tiered confection with off-white icing, trimmed with ice blue frosting, and dazzled with sugar crystal snowflakes...

At least until Olaf burst from the center, spraying frosting and red cake everywhere.

"Surprise!" the snowman shouted as the entire assembly groaned in disgust.

Kristoff coughed a wad of cake that had shot down his throat. "How did... how is that even _possible_?"

Elsa wiped a dab of frosting out of her hair while the chef panicked, screeching in fury and chasing Olaf around the dance floor. "I _did _tell him to surprise me." She said guiltily. "You'd think I'd know better by now."

Anna scooped up a large handful of ravaged cake that had plopped down at her feet, a mischievous smile playing across the younger sister's lips. "You know something else you should know better than to do by now?" she sang.

Elsa was still trying to clean icing out of her hair, and made the perilous mistake of not being wary of Anna's tone. "Hmmm?" she asked, distracted... then took a handful of cake right to the face.

"To take your eyes off me when there's fun to be had!" Anna crowed in triumph, then giggling as Elsa blinked her eyes free of mushed cake that otherwise painted her face.

Elsa's eyes twinkled dangerously, and Anna was delighted to see it, even though it no doubt meant trouble. "Who wants iced cream?" the queen asked.

Anna's eyes dashed back and forth, "Ice cream?" she asked, missing the subtle play on words. "I didn't see an..."

The younger sister was interrupted by a ball of chilled frosting smacking her square in the face like a snowball, sparking a food fight that quickly drew in everyone present in the Great Hall.

It would an event that would only be relayed in hushed tones by a populous that vocally found the momentary lapse in maturity distasteful while quietly giggling in delight whenever they remembered it... at least until they remembered that the only people who really won the war that day had been the local cleaners.

Elsa had her own cleaner, so that had not been a trouble that affected her. She in fact looked back very fondly on the party once the sun had set and she had retreated to her chambers. It didn't feel nearly as big and empty that night, the afterglow of the fun still lingering.

She had people close to her and cared about her. How many people didn't even have _that_?

That reminded Elsa to set aside the Dragon's Tear, and instead turn some attention to Anna's present at the very least. It couldn't have been easy to find all these stories among various loremasters all around the region, have them transcribed, then bound into the black leather book with Elsa's name etched in gold on the cover.

Anna was the sweetest person on earth. That's all there was to it.

She opened the book at random somewhere in the middle, then thumbed back to the start of the story. The tales of the Jotun, the mighty frost giants of the northern mountains. Much like all the stories from before the first permanent settlements, the veracity of the tales were questionable at best, as legends are wont to be. But they were still entertaining to the history inclined queen.

* * *

_Then__ Surt was the last of the Jotun, all of his kin felled by the hunters of man or of their long time adversaries the dragons. In revenge, Surt __chased men from the land, and__ hunted the great wyrms, hunted them across the Far Peaks that no man could hope to traverse. Hunted them west to the Breaking Fjords and east to the Gentle Ocean. To the Frozen Top of the World, and the Middle Sea, Surt hunted the dragons._

_ When all the wyrms were slain, their blood staining the whole of the land, washing away to Dragon's Fall and the Bloody Cliffs, __and men scared away from the North for another hundred years,__ only then did Surt rest, sleeping in the Heart of the Mountain, resting inside the tallest peak in the world. He sleeps to this day, for there are no worthy hunts, atop his wealth gathered from __his many kills. The dragon slayer rests, awaiting the day that another worthy prey emerges._

* * *

Elsa knew somewhat about the tale of Surt... vague memories of her grandfather, passed before Anna was even old enough to remember, who would claim that if the kids wouldn't stay quiet at night, they'd awaken Surt and he'd stomp the whole palace flat for disturbing his rest. It was fascinating to hear more of the story that inspired her grandfather's threats, and of times where great dragons filled the skies and fought men fifty-feet tall.

How much of it was true? At least some of it, if Pabbie's was to be believed. Which brought her attention back to the Dragon's Tear.

An item made from the blood of dragons, as the legends went. There was even a small section about the artifact she was holding in Anna's book, in fact. A wondrous crystal that could open the world to a mage that knew how to use it.

Which she didn't, of course.

Perhaps it was for the best, as she still considered herself barely in control of her powers as it was. "Falling into" the tear and becoming one with the world and all its power probably would be a bad thing.

The pale blue glow, visible despite the scarlet color of the jewel, was supposedly indication that the Tear had already attuned itself to her, for what little it meant. It _could _amplify her power... if she knew how her power really worked to begin with. She _could _reach out and contact other people with such jewels, talking to others like her even if they were half a world away.

_That _would be amazing.

If only she knew how...

Elsa felt herself drifting off, surprised by how tired she was. So tired, in fact, that she didn't even notice the glow from the Dragon's Tear intensify until the red was entirely consumed in blue.

* * *

She must have fallen asleep, because she was dreaming.

Perhaps.

Maybe.

It was hard to tell because it wasn't like any dream she ever had before. She felt disembodied, floating in a field clear upon clear before it shifted into something that looked like black _and _blue but neither.

Sensations beyond sight began to drip into her brain. The smell of earth... the feel of water flowing down skin she didn't have... the rustle of a cold breeze... sounds of birds... then... it started to come into focus.

She wasn't sensing those things, she _was _those things. She _was _the trees, she _was _the rivers, and the birds, and the grass, the wind, water, fire, and earth. She _was _the world... she could feel and hear and smell it all at once, one with everything. She was everywhere yet nowhere, lost yet found.

It all clicked. Somehow... someway... she had fallen into the Dragon's Tear.

Her spirits soared, even if by accident, and Elsa immediately tried to see if she could somehow find other mages. She had no idea how to go about that... reaching out in all directions (at least in the sense she knew of it), Elsa wasn't even certain what she was looking for, but she certainly tried.

For all she knew, her consciousness was flying by thousands of people like her, and she wouldn't have been able to tell. That was a nightmare that Elsa really didn't even want to consider, alone in a great expanse of her peers, unable to reach out to others simply because she didn't know how. It was better to believe she was all alone.

But still the snow queen searched for any sort of sign that she was on the right track, that she wasn't the only mage in the world, that there was someone, somewhere like her that could understand her and the troubles she went through.

Then she finally got that sign.

It manifested as a momentary flash in her senses, something she felt as much as saw. Momentarily afraid by the sensation of a great heat, her fears were quelled as the surge quickly faded into a much more welcoming glow, followed by a voice... a real human voice... a soft tenor by her reckoning, with an accent on his vowels that she didn't recognize.

_I was wondering how I was going to get your attention..._

With but one sentence, Elsa's entire world brightened.

* * *

It was something that those close to her didn't miss, though only Anna felt there was anything of substance to it.

"First you were worried that she was too sad, now you're worried she's too happy," Kristoff said. "Did you think that perhaps the celebration kinda cheered her up after all?"

"It's been three weeks since then," Anna argued. "And she keeps getting happier. Something else is going on. Something Elsa is keeping secret. I _hate _secrets. Secrets were..."

The princess hugged herself and shuddered. She didn't need to extrapolate.

Kristoff hugged her as well. "When Elsa is ready to tell you, I'm sure she will. I think if _anyone _has learned the lesson about keeping secrets, it's your sister."

Anna conceded, dropping her head. "I... guess you're right."

Olaf stuck his head around the doorway and into the parlor. "Oh good. She's not here," he said nervously and with no small amount of fear.

"Elsa?" Anna assumed.

The snowman nodded. "I crossed paths with her in the hall this morning. She was... she was... _humming_."

Anna and Kristoff looked at each other.

"Do... do you think it's possible Elsa... isn't really Elsa? That she's been replaced, and the real Elsa is a prisoner in some dungeon somewhere? Like maybe she was kidnapped and replaced by an evil doppleganger!" Olaf said, frightfully.

Kristoff quickly moved to shake Olaf out of whatever road the snowman was about to go down. "There's been someone around the queen near every waking moment. I find it hard to believe that _anyone _could take the queen _anywhere _she didn't want to go."

"We're talking about a girl who forced her way out of iron shackles and barred windows," Anna added. "I think anyone who tried to kidnap Elsa would discover their mistake very, very quickly."

Then Elsa entered the parlor, by all appearances completely oblivious to any discussion she might have overheard. She was indeed humming, her every step light as if she was walking on clouds, a broad relaxed smile crossing from ear to ear.

Anna, Kristoff, and Olaf went dead silent, following Elsa with nothing but their eyes warily.

The queen stopped at a window on the east side, drinking in the sunrise with an airy sigh. "It's such a beautiful day, don't you all think?"

Anna was the only one who dared speak. "Yes. Yes... it is."

"If you don't think it will be too cold, I think a walk in the ice garden would be splendid. Would any of you like to join me?"

At that point, Elsa turned to her companions, still with the same bright smile. Anna again spoke for the rest. "I would _love _to, Elsa."

The queen responded positively, "Wonderful! I have a meeting with ambassadors from Olsenland, but that shouldn't take long and I'll be free by noon at the latest. I'll have you summoned when I am ready to go!"

The queen practically floated out of the parlor, having somehow collected a plate of toast and marmalade as she departed. Only when the others felt she was sufficiently out of earshot did anyone dare speak.

"Something's not right," Kristoff admitted.

"Very not right," Olaf agreed.

They then both looked expectantly at Anna to rise to the occasion.

Anna nodded, and said nervously, "I'll... dig into it. During the walk in the ice garden. You both can stay here. It can be a... sister moment. If you... both want."

"We're okay with that," the other two said in unison, not even swayed by Anna's scathing glare.

The ice garden was really just the royal garden in the winter months, after the flowers withered and Elsa crafted sculptures with her powers. This most recent winter had seen Elsa not put quite the sort of effort the queen had the winter prior.

Elsa immediately set to work changing that once Anna joined her for their walk, flicking her wrist on occasion as they wound through the path. "Goodness, I just was _not _myself, was I? No imagination _at all_."

Elsa then dropped her head and said guility, "I am _so _sorry for being so gloomy. I had no reason to be."

"But you're better now, are you?" Anna asked.

"I am. I really am, Anna."

Anna stopped their walk, and grabbed Elsa by the shoulders. "What changed? And don't tell me it was the birthday party."

Elsa bit her lower lip sheepishly, the smile again creeping onto her face. "I... I met someone. Someone like me."

Anna's jaw dropped, because that didn't sound possible. She'd have thought news of another mage would have reached her ears from the surrounding kingdoms. "What?"

Elsa raised the Dragon's Tear. "Through this. I was able to find another like me. Well, not _exactly _like me. He's an ember mage, as he calls himself. Mastery of fire and heat, you see."

Anna blinked, "So... you've never actually _met _this person?"

"Not physically in person, no. But that's not the point. It's knowing..."

"It most certainly _is _the point!" Anna exclaimed. "You've been talking to some stranger for three weeks, haven't you? Ever since you got that thing!"

"He's not a stranger!" Elsa insisted in annoyance.

"What's his name?"

"Amon Din'Abar."

"Where is he from?"

"Aqaba. It's far to the south, past the Middle Sea."

Anna _had _heard of the southern empire... at least the name. Not much _else_, but it _was _a real place at least. "What's his favorite food?"

"Red curry with duck," then the queen's brow furrowed. "Though I don't know exactly what that is, honestly."

"What's the name of his best friend?"

Elsa frowned, "He doesn't have many friends. His sister Neferiti is probably his closest friend. The life of a mage in the south is one largely of isolation, devoted almost entirely to mastering their art."

"So there's a lot of ember mages then?"

Elsa shook her head. "No. Amon only knows of three ember mages in his _very _big empire, and until he got my attention, they had thought the frost mages had all died out. I get the impression there aren't many mages of _any _type at this point."

Anna's eyes bulged. "You didn't... tell him about us, did you? Aqaba is a pretty large empire, if I remember..."

Elsa rolled her eyes. "It's a bit of a stretch to launch an invasion force halfway across the world, sister, even if they wanted anything Arendelle had to offer. He knows where I'm from, he knows about the people close to me, but I certainly haven't given away the key to the back door."

"O... okay," Anna said, even if she was still extremely uncertain about all this.

Elsa gave a tired sigh, and smiled wanly, "I haven't asked him to marry me, Anna. I'm not _you_."

"Hey!" the younger sister protested, before deciding it best to chalk the quip up to normal teasing between sisters.

Elsa spun away, absentmindedly running her hand along one of her sculptures, an ice rose that stood almost ten feet tall. "Amon... understands the isolation I feel. Having this sort of power... it inherently separates you from everyone else. Even down there, in a land where there are more mages, they are distrusted and feared."

"There's so much about my powers I don't understand. Amon has helped me so much in just these last three weeks to learn how to control my magic, no matter what emotional state I'm in. But even without that... having someone to talk to... it's made me feel so much better. Someone out there that doesn't think I'm a monster."

Anna knew what Elsa meant... someone outside of her closest friends. If this Amon fellow made her feel less lonely, Anna decided that she should at least give the whole thing the benefit of the doubt.

At least for now. Maybe Elsa hadn't fallen for someone halfway a world away and hadn't ever met... but she was certainly falling. Anna had to get involved somehow, and then she had just the right idea.

She knew a name. She knew a place. She knew couriers. There were _other _ways to communicate that didn't involve a Dragon's Tear.

* * *

It would be two months, and the coming of spring, before Anna got a reply. This wasn't the surprising part. It was that she got a response _at all_. This Amon fellow certainly didn't need to win her over, because her sister was completely smitten at that point despite Anna's warnings... no matter how much Elsa tried to deny it.

But when the missive, in the form of a papryus scroll with bronze handles carved in the form of a dragon, was put in her hand by the royal courier, simple courtesy required she at least open it, and find out what this cad had to say for himself.

"What is _that_?" Kristoff asked, pointing to the scroll, no doubt having never even _seen _such a thing in his life.

Anna hadn't told Kristoff about Elsa's current crush, having decided that it was something Elsa had told her in confidence and would have spoken publicly about it had the queen wanted it more widely known.

"Oh... just another old story." Anna lied, proud that she had gotten a lot better at fibbing over the years. She didn't _like _deceiving her husband, but it was something worth keeping secret for the moment. "Elsa really liked the first one, so I'm trying to put together a second one from even more locations."

Kristoff kissed the top of her head as he collected his gloves from the closet. "Well then I can feel safe knowing you're occupied while I head out on my duties."

He was under _no _obligation to join the ice carvers on their treks into the mountains to collect ice since his marriage to one of the kingdom's princesses. In fact, he was often asked _not _to by advisors, who worried about an accident stealing away their (best) chance for a continuation of the royal line. But Kristoff was adamant to pull his weight, though he assured those concerned that he did nothing but inventory and supervision.

In this case, Anna was glad he left, as it gave her the chance to read what Amon had to say.

_Madame Idundottir,_

Polite fellow, very proper introduction.

_I do apologize if my handwriting is atrocious, as yours is a tongue that I have not given much study. If I make a misstep with my wording, I humbly offer my apologies ahead of time._

Considering she had _no _experience with _his _native language, she could hardly judge.

_I must say it was a bit of event to receive word from you through formal channels. It caused a minor scandal if you will. My father and mother were concerned that I was trying to have a relationship with you, a northerner not vetted by the Caliphs. I would ask, that if you try to contact me again, to not use lavender oils to scent your paper. The flower is considered a sign of passion in my land._

Anna couldn't help but snort in amusement, even as she did feel a little sorry for causing problems through an accident, knocking over a bottle of her perfume onto the letter she had written as she was trying to find an envelope to seal it in.

_But even then, I must shamefully admit they were not terribly far off. Your sister, Elsa, is an enchanting woman that interests me greatly, and not simply as a tutor as she seeks to master her power. But, perhaps sadly, a tutor is all I can be. I take comfort in that, to provide what little I can to help your sister._

Reading that... honestly saddened Anna. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but to read such resignation, a clear declaration that he had no romantic intentions, bothered her even as she felt she should have been relieved.

_ Emotions are extremely dangerous in conjunction with magical power, as I am told you know personally. I am honored to help her hone the discipline she needs to be able to control her prodigious might. That she was able to come as far as she has without any formal teaching is remarkable._

Prodigious, he says. Anna knew Elsa was powerful, but obviously didn't have any other mages to measure her to. Amon seemed to imply Elsa was above her peers, which Anna took as a compliment.

_You have nothing to fear from me, I would not be able to steal your sister away to the Aqaba even if that was desired or even allowed. Any such union, even if it were possible, would be problematic at the very best. The Caliphs would __most assuredly__ not be impressed even by your sister's royal standing, as she would not be baptized in the faith of __the One __True God__, and my standing, both as the son of a Caliph and an ember mage of the empire, would not permit me to leave and be with her._

Anna found herself starting to cry. Did Elsa know about this? Could she possibly be as happy as she was if she did? Could Anna be the one to tell her and break her heart?

_I am not sure if that is the news you want to hear or not, so I offer either my condolences or my congratulations. May your path be clear, and your life blessed by __the One __True God's__ watchful eyes._

_Sincerely,_

_Amon Din'Abar_

_Ember Mage of the Aqaba Empire_

That _should _have been what Anna wanted to hear, but by the end of the letter, it most certainly wasn't. Anna rolled up the scroll, tucked it under her arm, then slowly stood to leave. As much as it hurt her to think, this was something she had to tell Elsa sooner rather than later.

It was a long, slow walk to Elsa's chamber, and her knock was heavy on the door. Elsa opened that door, and immediately was concerned by Anna's expression. "Anna... what's wrong?" she said, stepping aside to allow the younger sister to enter.

Anna brandished the scroll before handing it to Elsa, saying, "I don't know... how much you know..."

Elsa was already skimming through the scroll, then looked up angrily, "Anna! You _idiot!_" She then swatted Anna repeatedly with the scroll, shouting, "Do you realize what you have done? You could have gotten him _killed _for this!"

Anna held up her hands to ward off her sister's anger, on an aside noting that whatever tutoring Amon was providing was actually having an effect, as despite her sister's rage, Elsa hadn't even so much as conjured a single snowflake. "I... I do now!" she said sheepishly, "So... I take it you already knew?"

Elsa sighed in exasperation, "Of _course_ I already know! It was..."

The queen's eyes cast downward, and Anna's fear immediately turned to worry. "Elsa?"

"It was... what he told me... when I confessed my feelings to him last month."

Anna wrapped Elsa in as comforting a hug as she could manage, "Oh, Elsa... I'm so very sorry."

"It's okay, Anna. It really is." Elsa said with a painful smile. "I've had a month to come to terms with it." She then cupped the Dragon's Tear in one hand, and added, "It's also helps that, no matter what, he's only a thought away, and still is willing to help me. Even as just a faraway friend, it's helped me so much."

"It has," Anna replied in agreement. "And I'm glad. I was so very worried about you."

"I know you were," Elsa answered, finally sharing her sister's embrace. "And I can't blame you. But things will be okay. Probably not great... but okay."

Anna figured that was going to have to be enough.

* * *

Spring was beginning the shift to summer by the time the next life-changing event hit the palace.

Two of them.

Anna had suspected the first surprise for a while, so she wasn't even upset when Kristoff asked if she was gaining weight. Because she knew she was, and when she finally could clearly see a slight curve in her stomach, she was confident enough to let the world know.

With a beaming smile, she sprinted into the halls, crying out for her sister, until she finally found Elsa... trying to finalize her trade negotiations with Olsenland in the main hall, the entire group looking at Anna in varying states of disbelief at the loud interruption.

The younger sister grinned nervously, slowly backing away into the hall. "I'll... I'll tell you later. Just... pretend I wasn't here..."

Anna closed the door behind her, the embarrassment fading away and returning the nervous excitement. She was going to be a mother.

This silent acknowledgment was then followed by a mind-halting moment of dread.

_She _was going to be a _mother_.

Now her trek through the halls was a slow and fearful tiptoe as her head spun with worries and the weight of what was coming. She didn't know the first thing about taking care of someone else, much less someone who would be wholly dependent on her. Someone counting on her to make the right choices in life... someone who trusted her implicity...

Anna couldn't even _dress _herself in the morning without help!

She found herself in the parlor, freezing in front of the line of portraits of their family over the generations, paralyzed by the painting of her mother, Idun. That peaceful, serene smile was the thing Anna remembered most about her mother... the stable balancing influence the woman provided, something that Anna had no faith she could provide herself.

_Hi mo__ther__. It's me, Anna._

_I really don't know what I'm going to do._

_ There's something big, and I'm lost, and I'm scared._

_ What did you do when this happened to you?_

_ When she falls, will I be there?_

_If she has trouble, will I be able to help her through?_

_Will she play in the mud, or want flowers in her hair__?_

_ What did you do when this happened to you?_

_What if... what if she's a he?_

_ What if he grows big, __like__ his father did too?_

_ I never had a brother to deal with, much less a son._

_What did you do when this happened to you?_

_Oh mama, __I wish you could see!_

_ A new life, and I'm the cause, it's true!_

_ Am I ready? Can I be half __the__ mother I need to be?_

_ What did you do..._

_ When this happened..._

_ To you?_

"Anna?"

Kristoff's voice shook her out of her thoughts. He was at the doorway of the parlor, and no doubt saw his wife in a distraught state. "What's wrong?"

Anna rubbed her shoulders nervously, "I... I think..."

Kristoff leaned in, trying to encourage her to spit it out.

"I'm... pregnant."

Kristoff's eyes lit up, and he nearly crushed Anna in a hug. "Really? That's great! That's amazing!"

Anna waited for the dread to sink in like it did with her. When it didn't, she felt the need to remind him, "Kristoff, you're an orphan! My parents died before I was even considered an adult! We have no idea what we're doing!"

Kristoff smiled disarmingly, "Bulda had been alive almost five hundred years by the time Sven and I stumbled into the valley. Even _she _admits she had no idea what to do with us half the time." He pushed Anna away and took her hands before tilting up her chin to look at him. "Our child will not go wanting_, _and he'll always be loved. That's the best possible start."

Anna's eyes narrowed accusingly. "How are you so sure she'll be a boy?"

Kristoff rose to the bait. "And how are you so sure he'll be a girl?"

"Regardless, you'll also have Auntie Elsa to help out when mommy and daddy are too tired."

Elsa was leaning against the door to the parlor with her arms crossed, and a broad smile on her face. Once she had the couple's attention, she entered the room, and hugged them both. "We're a family, all of us, and you can count on me to do whatever I can. I'm so happy for both of you."

"Yeah, it'll get the advisors off your back about getting married and continuing the royal line," Anna teased.

Elsa gently punched her sister on the shoulder, then found herself transfixed by the portraits of their parents, side by side, in front of her. "Do you think they'd be proud of us?"

Kristoff puffed out his chest, and declared with a wink, "They'd be proud of Anna's choice in a husband."

Anna ignored Kristoff, and looped an arm around Elsa's waist. "I have to believe they would," she said seriously. "Maybe we've made mistakes, but we've learned from them, and it's all turned out for the best."

"It has, hasn't it?" her face brightened at the thought, and she said, "This happy news actually trumps mine."

"Oh?" Anna asked.

"I just finished and signed the trade agreement with Olsenland."

Anna cheered. Trade was vital for the small kingdom, and having an official agreement with other lands meant that goods from Arendelle could be sold in those markets without heavy tariffs and taxes. It was definitely great news to hear.

"Today's been a great day, hasn't it?" Elsa remarked, buoyed by the affirmation of the two others present.

And by nightfall, it would manage to get better still.

Anna had come to recognize when Elsa had been talking to Amon in a couple of ways; one of which was meditative state that she used to safely channel the Dragon's Tear, as it was the only reason Elsa used the artifact.

The second was when Elsa was inordinately happy, like she was when she burst into Anna and Kristoff's chamber, and grabbed Anna by the arm.

"Do you wanna build a snowman?" she asked with a twinkle in her eye.

Anna's right eyebrow cocked.

"Yes, you do," Elsa answered for her. "Come on!"

The elder sister just about yanked the younger's arm out of her socket as she quite forcefully pulled Anna out of the chamber and towards Elsa's. If the cheer in Elsa's voice and the enthusiasm she was displaying hadn't been a clue, Elsa's choice of words was. The phrase had become code for a secret between the sisters, and this point there was really only one thing that Elsa was keeping secret from everyone else.

Anna wasn't sure Elsa could be smiling more broadly once they were in the secure setting of the queen's chambers. It was actually more worrying than pleasant "Elsa? What is it? What's... going on?"

Elsa bit her lower lip. The older sister was practically bubbling with joy. "Amon... received the blessing of his father."

Anna blinked, trying to remember why that was important. "Okay..."

"He's coming. Here. To Arendelle."

Anna _really _wanted to be as excited as Elsa was. Part of her was, to be honest. But the other part of her, the one that saw this still faceless ember mage as an unknown quantity once again grew nervous. It was one thing that this man was far away. The idea of him actually being present in person awoke all the uncertainty from months before.

Even assuming his intentions were pure (or at least... as pure as they could be considering obvious romantic interest), what would their neighbors think about _two _"monsters" in the same kingdom? They were tolerant of Elsa... would a second mage from a land most leaders only knew about as a massive imperial presence far to the south be received with even _that_? Or would it be received as a potential act of aggression? A union between two dangerous powers?

And when did Anna learn to start thinking so politicially? That was _Elsa's _job!

She shook her head of all the nagging thoughts, allowing herself to feel happy for her sister. Anna had no reason to believe Amon had any ill intent, and the response from Arendelle's neighbors could be handled another time.

She hugged her sister tightly, and said, "Elsa, that's great! I'm so happy for you!"

And if Anna repeated it enough, she just might be able to convince herself.

* * *

Travel across a sea and a continent took time, to the point that summer was on the wane before the big day that Elsa was waiting for, getting frequent updates from her paramour as he drew closer to the North Sea and Arendelle.

And also growing increasingly panicked about it.

To the point that she was talking to Sven about it.

Anna had to fight her every instinct to laugh and give away her position, because watching Elsa having a conversation with herself through the reindeer was even more adorable and funny than when Kristoff would.

"He won't be here for three days." Elsa said in a low voice.

"I know! And I know there's little point in panicking already! But I can't help it! What if doesn't like me?" She added normally.

"If he decides after months of heartfelt conversation to reject you based on appearance, then he isn't who you thought he was. Do you really think him that shallow?"

"Of course not! I _know _I'm being stupid! What is wrong with me? I'm acting like Anna!"

The younger sister really had to bite her tongue.

"Now, don't say such mean things about your sister."

Anna huffed in support. You tell her, Sven!

"I know, because I'm being even dumber about it than she is. I'm... I just don't want to go back to being lonely and miserable, and I think that's where I'd be if... if..."

"He won't reject you. You know this. It'd be really silly to go all this way just to turn back because you don't fit some preconceived appearance."

"That doesn't mean I shouldn't look my best!"

"No, it doesn't."

"But... I don't even know what my best _is_."

"You have three days to figure that out. Perhaps you should ask your sister for help."

Anna couldn't stay out of it at this point. "You should listen to Sven," she said with a teasing smile, "I sometimes think he's the smartest person in this whole kingdom."

Elsa turned in her direction, and Anna immediately felt pity for the elder sister. The queen didn't have any quip or barb, just a lost, pathetic expression of a woman who had no idea what she was going to do.

"Awww..." Anna crooned, "You've got it bad, don't you?"

Elsa nodded slowly. "I... as silly as it sounds, I want to look my best when I meet Amon," she said, her voice slowly raising to frantic, "But... should I wear my hair up or down? What dress should I wear? Should I put on rouge? What lip color should I choose? Should I wear any makeup at all? Would he think makeup horribly fake? _I don't know!_"

Anna took Elsa's hands, and gently led her back into the palace. "Well, that's what I'm here for. Come on..."

The procession led up the stairs, and to the full length mirror in Elsa's chamber. Anna pulled over a chair from the desk, and gently pushed Elsa down with a quiet order of, "Sit."

Anna plucked the crown of Elsa's forehead, then unpinned the tail of Elsa's hair so that the braid hung down freely. "First of all, hair down. Definitely down," the younger sister said, then ran her hands through the elder's platinum blonde locks. "Tousled a little bit too. Make you look a little dangerous. Playful."

Elsa wasn't convinced. "But... but what if he likes normal, proper girls?"

Anna patted her on the shoulders, "Elsa, if he liked proper girls, he wouldn't be interested in _you_."

The reward for that quip was a withering glare cast over Elsa's shoulder. Anna figured it was due payback for Elsa's jab about Hans months back.

"As for what to _wear_... I think the ice dress you're wearing now would be perfect."

Elsa liked that dress, mostly because it was extremely comfortable and _very _easy to get out of, which was more than could be said for those complicated contraptions that she had to wear in formal settings. "Really?"

"But with _one _tiny alteration."

Anna then reached into the left drawer, drew out a pair of scissors, settling the blade above Elsa's collarbone, then with a single snip split the icy material three inches and opened up the top of Elsa's chest. "Anna!" the queen screeched as her cheeks flushed brightly.

"Just trust me on this one. And that blush is a perfect color for you. Keep it."

Elsa instead growled.

Anna spun in front of her sister, and knelt down, "It will be fine. I promise. You don't have to dress up or pretty yourself up too much. You've grown close just by being who you are. Why try and change things now?"

The younger sister then put a finger to her chin in thought. "Except... stay right there. I'll be back."

Elsa got a little scared at what could possibly be on Anna's mind that made her leave the room entirely. But when she did return, it was with a small glass bottle.

"You'll want this," Anna advised as she gave Elsa her lavender perfume.

Then the earth shook.

It wasn't a particularly powerful tremor, nor did it last very long, but for a land that never experienced earthquakes, it was enough to start a minor panic throughout the kingdom and screams through the castle that even both sisters could hear.

The makeover was abandoned as Anna and Elsa rushed out of her chambers, met by Advisor Nelson in the stairwell. "Queen Elsa! You are needed in the square immediately!"

Anna was out of breath keeping up as Elsa emerged out of the castle, though they really didn't need to go to the town square to see what was wrong.

A massive storm front approaching from the north, crackling with visible lightning as it rolled down off the mountains. This was the sort of storm that would occasionally brew in the early spring as warm southern air battled the winter winds. It was certainly not typical for summer, especially when mixed with the steadily increasing earthquakes.

"The ice shippers saw it first, and they informed the scouts," a uniformed soldier declared, bowing in the presence of the queen. "The scouts couldn't even get close before the winds whipped up snow and reduced visibility to nothing."

The scoutmaster of the kingdom was a man who had served under her father, and had watched wars unfold in neighboring lands. He was not one to panic easily. But there was little doubt of his concern when he warned, "Make no mistake, my queen. There's something in there. I could hear it. This is no natural storm."

Elsa's eyes narrowed... she could agree. Even from here she could feel something was off. There was a chill in the air that she could _feel_, and Elsa was _not _the sort of person to feel cold. At the same time, she felt an electric tingle in her hands that was consistent with using her talents even though she hadn't conjured or manipulated anything all day. It was consistent with what she had been learning about magical auras.

This was indeed _not_ natural, and it needed to be stopped before it reached Arendelle.

"Varus, you're with me. Assemble ten of our most trustworthy men," Elsa ordered, "Bring me my horse. We ride out within the hour."

"Elsa!" Anna replied, aghast.

The elder sister turned to her, the queen's face grim. "I don't know what's out there, but I doubt our army alone can handle it themselves. If you do not receive word in three days... I need you to evacuate the people and retreat to Olsenland."

"Elsa!"

"No time to argue!" the queen shouted as her horse was led to her, and she was helped into the saddle. She turned sad, "I need to be able to trust you on this, Anna. Something... is very wrong. I can feel it. I need to know you'll be safe."

Anna could hear the tension in Elsa's voice, and see the worry on her face. Even if the younger sister couldn't feel what was rattling her sister, she knew Elsa didn't get like this for no reason. If the queen was about to lead an expedition, this was _serious_.

So, in response, Anna nodded solemnly, and watched as her sister left for the gates where the rest of her group was being assembled. Kristoff didn't even _try _to worm his way into the group, immediately siding up to Anna and putting an arm around her waist. Sven trotted up behind them, and Olaf slipped in front, the snowman not even _attempting _any quip or bad joke.

Anna tried to put her arms around everyone in sight, though she really could only manage her fingertips grazing Kristoff's hair as she went over Sven's neck, hoping against hope that Elsa's fears would not come to pass.

* * *

Two days passed. In that time, the storm had seemed to reverse course oddly, hovering over the North Mountain where it stayed during the interim. It had appeared that the expedition, at the very least had turned it away from the kingdom, when word finally arrived from the queen.

That word was not good.

It came in the form of a single scout, barely hanging onto his crippled horse as it stumbled past the castle wall from the frontier shortly after nightfall. As the acting ruler in Elsa's absence, Anna was immediately summoned to meet him in the medic's ward.

The scout was in bad shape, with a doctor making stitches to a deeply lacerated right arm _while _he was trying to report to Anna, a report he was insisting on making as soon as possible due to its urgency.

Anna tried to be calm, even as her thoughts were racing fearfully. "What is your name?"

"Baris, ma'am."

She wanted to shake him, demanding to know where her sister was. Instead she settled with, "What happened to the rest of the expedition, Baris? Do you know what was causing the storm?"

Baris shook his head, "No, ma'am. Not even the queen could fight through the wind. It was almost like a funnel cloud. You could feel the warmth go cold and see the winds spiraling and kicking up a bone-chilling freeze. The only thing the queen could determine that there was something very cold in the center of the storm."

The scout hissed as the doctor applied alcohol to the wound and continued dressing the gash. "Whatever it was, it was big, and it turned on us in the pass, causing a rock slide. I... only survived because I was in the back of the procession."

Anna's heart dropped, "El... the queen as well?"

Baris shook his head, "The queen... survived. Somehow. She managed to get to the top of the collapse, and... I think she might have seen what was causing the storm. She saw that I was still moving... and she told me... to get back to Arendelle as fast as I could."

Baris finally made eye contact with Anna, and said grimly, "She told me... to tell you... to evacuate. That she was... retreating to the ice palace... and that she'd distract whatever that thing was as... as long as she could."

Anna's blood felt like it was turning to ice... a sensation she knew quite intimately. Elsa's choice of words were not meant to inspire confidence. The queen did not think she could defeat or even thwart whatever was responsible for the storm. Anna's worst fears had become real.

The younger sister dropped her head, forcing herself not to cry. Arendelle needed her to keep it together, at least until they had found sanctuary. She kept her head down nonetheless as she turned to her Guard Captain. "Have the messenger send word to Olsenland as quickly as possible, she should already have the message prepared. After that... I need you to supervise gathering every civilian of the land, and strongly recommend they follow the queen's orders to evacuate."

Anna tried to keep a brave face, but the best she could manage was glum resignation as she swiftly made her return trip to the palace. And she had barely crossed the threshhold and had the doors closed behind her that she collapsed to her knees crying bitterly.

Kristoff didn't even need to ask. He had heard the commotion, and coupled with Anna's present state had been able to glean the thrust of the situation. He hugged her, offering whatever comfort he could, even though it would never be enough.

Olaf nervously approached, not quite as aware of what was going on, but aware enough to know it was very bad. Kristoff noted the snowman's approach and said quietly, "Ever wanted to see another kingdom?"

Olaf nodded. He loved the idea of exploring.

"Well, you're going to get your chance."

* * *

Olsenland wasn't a kingdom as much as it was a coastal bartering city-state in the lowlands to the west of the fjords. While Arendelle had a port, Olsenland's broader coastline allowed for larger ships of the sort that routinely crossed the great seas.

That trade was also why they were more willing to forge agreements with Arendelle or _any _city or kingdom that could expand their routes and therefore profits. It also meant that they tried to keep peace with anyone and everyone who crossed their borders, and went out of their way to not insult any parties.

Like investing considerable resources or voicing expressed support of Arendelle and Anna's attempt to rouse said support for her possibly dead sister out in the mountains. The council in charge in Olsenland allowed Anna to privately try and rouse her own expeditionary team, and accepted Arendelle's coin to help feed and house the refugees, but wasn't going to go any further than that.

Which was what brought Anna to the dockside and the taverns, where the council had suggested she go for her recruitment. A good many sailors liked to take on jobs during the summer while they waited for the winds to shift in the fall.

Kristoff insisted on going with her into any seedy establishments, but the first tavern on the dockside was actually pretty clean... or at least as clean as could be expected for hardwood floors scuffed from thousands of boots and tables and chairs over the years. Scantily dressed barmaids dashed from the kitchen to the tables, serving the sort of rugged clientele one would expect from men and women who spent months on the open seas.

Not that she got the chance to appeal to anyone inside because of who had followed them in.

"We heard that people from Arendelle had stumbled into the city. Didn't realize it was the witch's sister herself."

Anna and Kristoff spun around to address the speaker, one of six uniformed men in white jackets and blue trousers. It was a look Anna knew quite well, as well as the coat of arms on their lapels.

Southern Isles.

Kristoff immediately became defense, sliding in front of Anna. He hoped his size if nothing else would dissuade any shenanigans.

"I hear your people are in some hard times," the man clearly leading the group said with a leering grin. "Such a shame."

"And what business is it of yours?" Kristoff snarled.

The man held up his hands to ward off any hostility. "I merely wish to offer my help. Despite my brother's antics, he does not represent our lands."

"And which brother are _you _then?" Anna grumbled.

"Does it matter? We're practically interchangeable in the eyes of our parents," he said, "To the point that I think they'd accept any of us getting considerable influence in Arendelle."

"Why you..." Anna snarled, the insinuation clear to her, needing to be held back by Kristoff before she hauled off and punched the implied older prince.

"I don't think you understand your peril," the prince declared, his men behind him reaching for the swords at their hips.

The bartender quickly panicked, and exclaimed, "Please! No weapons or fighting inside!"

The prince's smarmy grin didn't even fade, "Oh, I assure you, I have no intent of causing any trouble. Merely giving the woman here an option. She needs help. I'm willing to provide it... for a price." He hadn't actually said what that price was, but with his suggestive green and leering eyes, he didn't exactly need to.

At that point, Kristoff was about ready to punch him, until a deep, heavily accented voice cut through the tension, saying, "I don't think they're interested in what you're selling, friend. I suggest you find somewhere else to be."

The voice was deep and heavily accented, belonging to a man in a corner table to the right, sitting alone with his legs propped up on an adjoining chair and nursing a brown bottle, holding a scarlet red leather book in his left hand, looking up from it in annoyance at the scene.

He was a fairly large man, as far as Anna could tell, though not as large as Kristoff, well built from the bare sleeves of his leather vest and knee length leather trousers. Almond skin, brown hair and eyes, with a well trimmed beard across his cheeks and chin.

The prince was equally annoyed. "I think the sand man needs to mind his own business."

"I'd love to, if you'd silence your lurid suggestions and leave. Are the South Isles of such low esteem that their princes need to lower themselves to propositioning pregnant women?"

Anna blushed, and threw her hands over her stomach. She didn't think her belly bump was _that _obvious already.

The prince responded aggressively to the insult, only to stop short due to a warning growl at his feet.

The dog wasn't particularly large, curled up in a ball at the southern man's feet, and almost perfectly blended into the dark corner, which was no doubt why it had been overlooked. What Anna thought was coal back fur was in fact coal black skin, the dog completely hairless with pale orange-red vein-like streaks running across the dog's hide.

Its eyes were of similar color to the veins, and as it rose to its paws proudly displayed its stocky, tightly built body and legs. She had seen similar dogs with the same sort of scrunched muzzle and body shape, but nothing that resembled this dog's unusual coloration. It was definitely a weird, unnatural creature.

The South Seas prince was equally confounded, but recovered quicker. "Curious dog you have there."

"So I'm told," the dark man replied.

The prince's smile returned, and he suggested, "Perhaps rather than sophisticated men like us settling your transgression like barbarians, perhaps our dogs can for us? I would love to see how such an unusual animal could handle one of the South Seas hunting dogs."

The still sitting man scoffed at the idea dismissively. "Gilgamesh is my companion, and I wouldn't lower him in such a debased 'sport' with one of your mangy animals. I can assure you that it's not something _you _want either."

As if the dog understood the conversation, it turned its head in its master direction, and yipped once, before returning its gaze at the prince in front of it with a low growl.

The man regarded this with humored interest. "Oh? Do you _wish _to debase yourself?"

The dog spun in a circle three times, then yipped again.

Its master shrugged, and slapped his book closed and slid it into a satchel on yet another chair. He finally stood, made sure that his scimitar was properly hooked to his belt, and clicked to his dog that heeled obediently. "Well then, I suppose you have your fight, sir. Let's be proper gentlemen and take it outside like the proprietor desires."

The bar owner nodded energetically, his eyes narrowed to fearful dots. "Yes please."

The South Seas delegation left first, followed by the dark man who had gotten mixed up in the mess. "I would suggest you follow me," he said to Anna and Kristoff as he passed them, "I think you'll want to see this."

The South Seas prince was already crossing the square to his caravan, releasing one of the dogs to his care with a brown leather leash. It was a proper shepherd dog, powerful, lean, and tall, and stiff pointed ears and a pointed snout with brilliantly white fangs. It was indeed a remarkably impressive beast, and at least three times the size of the curious dog approaching confidently.

Its master stopped it momentarily, kneeling down and offering final instructions. "Gilgamesh, my friend, this dog is of base intelligence, barely above a common animal. It knows not what it is doing."

The man then raised his eyes to the prince, and said, "Go easy on its pet."

Anna snorted mirthfully at the jab, even though she was appalled at the idea of the impromptu dogfight shaping up in front of her. Kristoff, on the other hand, was infinitely more concerned about Gilgamesh, leaning into its master and asking, "I've never seen a dog like that."

"I would hope not." the dark man answered.

"What breed is he?"

"Thermite hound."

"I've never heard of that either."

"I would hope not."

Any further questions were cut off by one of the prince's men declaring the fight to start, and the prince unhooking the leash from his dog. That dog took one aggressive stride, and started to lunge before rearing back in terror.

Because Gilgamesh went up in a plume of white and orange flame, its entire body flickering like a bonfire.

The dog itself did not seem the slightest bit bothered by this, barking violently with plumes of fire and smoke erupting from its muzzle and nostrils, taking slow steps forward, more to intimidate than attack. Not that Gilgamesh needed to do much to cause not just the dog, but the prince's men to panic and flee in fright.

The prince then regarded the dog's master, to see the dark man grinning with vicious intent, fingers of flame licking upward from his palms. "You... you're a monster! Like that witch in Arendelle!"

That caused the smile to vanish and change to rage, with a thrust of the dark man's right hand that caused a fifteen foot wall of fire to erupt behind the prince to thwart any attempted escape. The prince barely had time to realize this before his opponent was upon him, grabbed by the jacket and shaken violently.

"What have you done with her?" the dark man demanded, "Where is she?"

Anna was embarrassed it took her _that _long before she put it all together. She rushed into the fray, grabbing the dark man by his left arm and saying, "Amon! No! They had nothing to do with it!"

His response was a suspicious eye, and the question, "How do you know my name?"

At the same time, Kristoff asked in confusion, "How do you know his name?"

Anna didn't answer her husband, instead focusing on the problem at hand. "You're an ember mage, aren't you? And you're looking for my sister... I figured that rather narrowed things down."

"You're Anna."

"Yep! That's me! Anna Idundottir. The girl who nearly got you killed with a very ill timed letter," she said the last bit with a nervous grimace.

Now Kristoff was more than confused, he was bordering on angry, "What is... what letter? How do you know this man? How does _he _know _you_?"

The pyroclastic display got the attention of the entire dockside, and Anna found herself not enjoying the attention. "Let's go... somewhere more private... to continue this discussion... shall we?"

She grabbed Amon and Kristoff by their arms, and led them to the refugee camp on the edge of Olsenland. The refugees hadn't had much chance to set up more than tents and fire pits, but the camp's presence was enough to keep any eavesdroppers from listening in.

Their return was received well by Olaf, "Oh, you're back! You know I _hate _being left behind. You get in _so _much trouble when I'm not around! Well... you get in a lot of trouble when I _am _around too... so I guess it really doesn't matter if I'm around or not, but I still like being around because I don't like not knowing what is happening!"

Anna gestured with a sigh, "Amon, meet Olaf."

Amon's eyes widened, and he said, "You're a familar."

Olaf's eyes narrowed, and replied, "Really? Because I don't think we've met."

The ember mage shook his head, and fell to his knees, the relief in his face and voice evident. "No... you are Elsa's familiar. She created you, didn't she?"

"Oh! Yes!"

Amon hugged the snowman, then jumped to his feet as he dropped Olaf. "This... is the best news I have heard in six days." Seeing the confusion in the rest of his new friends, he explained, "A mage's spells expire with the mage. If Elsa had passed away... Olaf here would no longer exist."

He then dropped his head onto his head in thought, "Which doesn't answer why she isn't talking to me."

Anna's heart was buoyed by news that Elsa was still alive, though that didn't tell her much else. "When did you last talk to her?"

"About six days ago. There was a magical storm that she was investigating, and that I was to wait for you here. I assume that was not word she passed along."

Anna shook her head, "She really didn't have time, I don't think. We only got word from a scout that she and her expedition were separated, and that she would try to distract whatever caused the storm. She supposedly retreated to her ice palace on the North Mountain."

"Then we shouldn't waste time," Amon declared. "Take me there."

"Not in the middle of the night, we're not," Kristoff said. "It would be at least three days to get to the North Mountain from here anyway. We can leave at first light."

He then closed the distance between himself and Amon, and said, "Besides, while my wife might seem to know you, I don't. And I'm not taking _anyone _I don't know up into the mountains again. So why don't you start talking?"

Anna was _really _glad that Kristoff's anger was directed at Amon and not her... at least until her husband added, "I'd really like to know what's so special about you that my beloved wife seemed fit to _never mention you at all_..."

Amon clearly did not like the idea of a delay, and for a brief moment, his fists clenched and Anna was worried that there was going to be another fight, this one not involving dogs. But as quickly as the tension rose, the ember mage stood down, his fists loosening and his posture relaxing. "Very well," Amon finally said. "I suppose it is only fair."

The ember mage dropped into a cross-legged position around the fire. "Where should I begin?"

Anna followed, and tugged on Kristoff's trouser leg to get him to do the same. "How about you start with how you first met my sister?"

Amon nodded, "_That _might require some prelude..."


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2: Amon**

"Amon!"

He tried very hard to ignore his sister's call. Firstly, because he really didn't want to acknowledge her. Secondly, because he really didn't need the distraction.

Swordplay was dangerous even in the best of conditions.

The blade dance he was engaged in was a very precise and delicate affair. Each parry had to be done with the flat of the blade and turned at the right angle. Edge on edge contact could break the steel, creating dangerous shrapnel. Mistime the parry, and it's possible either he or his partner loses a hand or arm.

But his sister was not going to be deterred. She never was.

"Amon! Your father wants you! _Now!_"

He sighed, and stepped back with sword turned down. His dance partner had already stood down himself, however. "The duties of a Caliph's son calls. I am already aware."

Amon sheathed the scimitar and returned it to its mounting on the wall. He felt rather bad when these exercises were cut short. The scimitar was rapidly falling out of favor in lieu of the straighter blades from the north... and he hated to see a piece of his land's history die... even if the straight swords were better for fighting.

And even if black powder was the heart of weapons even more devastating than any sword.

"Amon! _Now!_"

"I'm coming, Neferiti!" he finally bellowed in response.

His sister almost popped into being, appearing through the doorway separating the sparring hall from the corridor. She was fourteen going on twenty-four, Amon felt, growing up far too fast for her family's sensibilities. It didn't help that she was already showing signs of being a stunning beauty that would steal far too many hearts for anyone's good.

Wars had been fought over less.

Though those were in the tribal days, long before the entire region was unified by the First Caliphate of the Empire of Aqaba, heralds of the Faith of the One and the Faceless Prophet.

"I know you are. I just like shouting at you," Neferiti said with a cheeky grin, revealing pearl white teeth that contrasted her bronzed skin and chocolate brown eyes. Her black hair flipped like a curtain of night as she spun about and added, "I think you're in trouble."

Amon knew he was, and he knew exactly what he did. "Gilgamesh! Come!"

The thermite hound obeyed immediately, falling in to the right of his master's legs. Amon had created Gilgamesh during a test two years ago. He had little trouble crafting the familar, something that had impressed Magus Setophi, the old nomad shaman Amon took tutoring from. Gilgamesh was apparently a finely crafted magical creature, and was one of Amon's few moments of pride as a mage.

"You were supposed to be at the mage's circle, weren't you?" she said knowingly once they were alone in the corridor.

"Yes," Amon answered simply.

"You must have known that Magus Setophi was going to inquire."

"I did."

"And yet you lied anyway when you told our parents that he didn't require you today."

"I did."

Neferiti sighed. "Brother, you really need to learn how to lie better."

"I really do not want to think about what you are up to when you scheme, sister."

Neferiti flashed another broad grin, and chirped, "Then don't!"

She continued on from the main hall, waving flippantly and saying, "I'll be right behind you. Try not to die from your sins when our father's holy gaze is cast upon you!"

Amon clenched his jaw, and muttered, "Some days I wish I would."

He pushed open the doors, not bothering to close them, because he knew that this would be an extremely short meeting. His father had far more important things to do than to chastise his wayward son.

Caliph Ramses III was one of seven Caliphs of the Empire of Aqaba, and they were the body that actually held the power of the empire in their hands, as the "Emperor" was officially the Faceless Prophet that died over a thousand years ago.

His wife and Amon's mother, Hatsepsut was the proper Aqaba woman, the compassionate hand to his father's stern. And it was a role that they played in perfect unison when time allowed it... which was rare when the stern hand was needed as a ruler.

"Magus Setophi tells me you were required at the circle," his father said coldly.

"I'm sure I was," Amon answered. "And I declined those summons."

Ramses leaned forward in his throne. "You have a duty to the empire..."

"A duty that I do not desire."

"What you desire is irrelevant."

Hatsepsut interjected, "Your father did not desire to be Caliph. But that is what his land asked of him. You do not desire to be an ember mage, but that is the gift the One True God granted you."

Amon exhaled sharply. It was impossible to be cold to his mother even though he knew this was how the game was played, and didn't want to play that game in any form.

"The Magus has summoned you, and this time you will obey it. You will leave at once and you will not dally," his father ordered. "And you will heed your lessons there."

Hatsepsut had no issues reprimanding her husband when she felt he was out of line, as she did at that moment. "The Magus has always lauded Amon's learning. He has never failed any test nor failed to demonstrate anything but the highest aptitude."

Amon bowed in respect to his parents, "I will do as you order, father. To the letter. If I may show myself out."

Ramses nodded, and for a brief moment, Amon thought he might have seen a twinkle of emotion in his father's eyes before waving off his son to his business. It rapidly disappeared so quickly that Amon decided he was probably imagining it.

In the meantime, Neferiti had been playing with Gilgamesh, picking up the thermite hound and holding him in front of her face. The magical dog playfully licked Amon's sister from chin to hairline, leaving a long black streak of soot behind.

"Neferiti!" Ramses bellowed, "Clean yourself up this instant!"

Glad that the scorn was no longer on him, Amon left with Gilgamesh in tow, figuring that there would be a more painful chiding from his mother after the evening meal while she tried to remind him of the One's chosen role for him. He knew damn well what that role was, and he didn't like it.

"For what it's worth, I understand."

Amon turned his head to regard his older brother, Ramses IV, who had fallen in step to Amon's left. "What is the purpose of sending you out among the nomads for an art that likely won't exist beyond our generation? It's a waste of your talents."

The younger Ramses was destined to take his father's place as Caliph, and knew painfully well the burden of duty that irritated Amon. It led to a close rapport between the brothers, and one that Amon appreciated. "Well, perhaps when it is our turn to lead our people, we can shape it the way we desire."

"Here is hoping. Until then, you should probably try to follow our parents' rules."

Amon sighed, "I am truant for _one _morning, and it is city-wide news before even the midday meal."

Ramses could barely manage to keep a straight face. "Every deviation from our destined duty is an affront to the One True God. You know this as well as I. We are supposed to be examples for our generation, after all."

Amon clapped his brother on the back once they reached the main gates of the Caliph's palace from the rest of the city of Sinai.

The city of Sinai was not the largest city in the empire, but it was pretty much the only city within the stretch of wasteland that his father controlled as the Caliph. A small port on the southern banks of the Middle Sea kept it supplied, and nomads roamed the majority of the land, barely paying lip service to the laws of the empire, knowing that its reach was limited in the barrens.

But the nomadic peoples had one thing that the empire deemed incredibly important: the Magus Circle... or what was left of it. In truth, the ember mages, along with mages of _any _cut, were rapidly dying out, and why Amon's father was so insistent on Amon learning as much as he could and maintaining that knowledge.

But what was the point of it? The blood lines that allowed for humans to use magic were thinning, whatever allowed them to harness those arcane pools of power were dying out. Much like the sand giants and the dragons of the last great age, magic was vanishing at a rapid rate.

Was that even a problem though? It's not like magic was needed to make a fire now that intelligent men and women had learned how to stoke flames even hotter than anything a mage could conjure even at the height of magic's power. And some schools of magic, like plague magics and necromancy, probably shouldn't be preserved anyway.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he damn near ran into the merchant and cart that was being pulled across the road.

"Ah, Salaam and good evening to you, worthy friend," the merchant said. "I bring goods from Agrabah, City of mystery, of enchantment, and the finest merchandise this side of the river Jordan, on sale today, come on down!"

The merchant laughed nervously, and Amon's left eyebrow rose. He really did not have time for this. "Agrabah hasn't been Agrabah in about six hundred years, friend, nor was it particularly enchanting or mysterious. In fact, it was one of the _least _magically inclined sultanates among its neighbors."

The merchant was undeterred. "Look at this! Yes! Combination hookah and coffee maker, also makes Julienne fries. Will not break..." then upon tapping it on the table crumpled into three pieces. "It broke." Then the merchant dove behind his cart, retrieving another object, "Ooohhh! Look at this! I have never seen one of these intact before. This is the famous Dead Sea Tupperware. Listen..."

"Dear sir, I am afraid I have business to attend to," Amon said politely. He was in public, and thus his father would be furious if Amon coldly dismissed anyone without first trying proper discourse. "Perhaps you can regale me another time?"

"Wait, don't go! I can see that you're only interested in the exceptionally rare. I think then, you would be most rewarded to consider...this." At this point, the merchant revealed a bronze oil lamp from his sleeve. "Do not be fooled by its commonplace appearance. Like so many things, it is not what is outside, but what is inside that counts. This is no ordinary lamp! It once changed the course of a young man's life. A young man who like this lamp was more than what he seemed. A diamond in the rough. Perhaps you would like to hear the tale?"

Amon sighed, and betrayed the game, "I do believe I've already heard this story, D'Jinn. But regardless, I am not lying. I am late for lessons at the circle, and really must attend to them."

The merchant sighed. "Yes, I suppose you must. Magic may be fading, but it really doesn't deserve to die."

"You have greater faith in it than I do, clearly."

"You pursue history as a matter of hobby, young Amon. It is distressing that you would shun living history so."

"Perhaps. But by desire or obligation, I am not abandoning it yet. Farewell, D'Jinn. Perhaps tomorrow we will have more time to talk."

"One never knows where the sands blow by the following morning."

They parted with a wave, and Amon continued on his road to the barrens of Sinai. Unlike D'Jinn's parting statement, there wasn't much sand in this part of the desert, and the only settlements were the seasonal nomadic settlements along the peninsula interior. During the winter months, the nomad's settled closest to the city, which was convenient. It was less so during the summer, when Amon would have to leave the comforts of home for a week at a time.

_My place, my duty, I scorn all of these,_

_ A life of a hermit in a sandy hell is not one for me._

_ For what, a dying light we no longer need?_

_ A sacred drivel keeping me from what I want to be!_

_ My life, my wants, can I not pursue these?_

_ In lieu of a dusty existence with stones and sticks?_

_ Can I not see a wider world out there?_

_ To defy those above me and shape my life... do I dare?_

_ Could I run to lands I have only read?_

_ Or will I rot in a life with my existence effectively dead?_

_Old and tired and frail, is this my fate?_

_ Can I dare to escape... or is it already too late?_

The nomadic camp was in sight within the hour, their hide tents forming a loose perimeter around the shamanic circle that Magus Setophi maintained at their every camp. He claimed that the circles at one time held significant importance, focal points where magical energy bubbled to the surface from the heart of the world. They, like everything else magical, were disappearing from the world.

The nomads milling about the camp immediately parted as they saw Amon approach. Even among them, they were wary of the "shamans" as they called mages. Respected from a distance, that's the life his father decided was his duty.

Surely, Amon was ingrateful to be anything short of overjoyed.

Magus Setophi was sitting crossed legged on the south side of the innermost of three circles etched in the dry soil of the desert. He didn't need to open his eyes to know who was approaching, "You are late."

"I am," Amon agreed sarcastically. What was it about his elders that insisted upon them to state the obvious?

"You are not normally tardy, even though I know your heart isn't in these lessons."

"I... wanted to do something else today. I didn't think it through very well."

"It is difficult for a nomad like myself to understand the rigorous structure that our 'civilized' brothers insist upon. I can only imagine it is a chore. I apologize for inconveniencing you."

Amon couldn't be mad at the mage. It certainly wasn't his fault Amon unilaterally decided to ignore his summons. "I'll be sure to let you know if I desire my plans to change."

Setophi asked, "Are the lessons too tedious? I know that you absorb learning so very well, and perhaps I push too much on you."

"No, no... I am just being contrary today."

"You're chafing against the arbitrary rules of polite society. It is understandable that eventually you would act out. All men and women do at some point. Civilization forgets this."

Amon smiled. This discussion reminded him of the sole reason that compelled him to attend these lessons, that Magus Setophi was one of the most understanding and truly interesting people in the whole empire. While his travels didn't extend much past the peninsula, that was more than most people on the peninsula outside of Amon's parents could say.

"Perhaps you are ready..." Setophi mused, finally opening his eyes and regarding Amon carefully. "But it is something that will take some time. If you are interested, I can send word to your family that I require your attention for something very... unique... but it will no doubt take the night."

"What meditation could take so long?" Amon asked.

"I think the time for meditation and discipline is over. I think you need to start _doing _rather than _waiting_. The reason for the extended stay is because we must travel to the heart of the barrens."

Amon's eyes lit up at the word "travel," even if he suspected it wouldn't be a particularly entertaining trip.

"Should I take that as a 'yes'? Then I shall send message to the Caliph. I suspect he will not be displeased to see such dedication on your part."

* * *

The barrens of Sinai weren't the most comfortable of climates to traverse, even in the winter months. But Amon found himself impressed that the old nomad was not only taking the lead, but having to stop more than once to allow the younger mage to catch up.

"This is one of the only permanent structures that my people maintain, and we do so only reluctantly. Fifty years ago, this was where _my _master, the ember mage Bedou, and I fought and slain the last of the sand giants who terrorized the peninsula."

"It's a shame I never got to meet him. You paint a picture of a tremendously powerful mage."

Setophi nodded, "He was... though not for the reasons you think. It is time you know and understand the story of exactly how we stopped the last of the great giants."

The location led to what seemed like a ravine formed by a long dormant river, followed by a cave marked with two unlit braziers, one of which had no doubt fallen over from a gust of wind at some point. Gilgamesh sniffed the coals, and whined softly, looking up at Amon then back down at the remains of the brazier.

"We... don't maintain it very well, it seems."

They descended the ravine, and Amon returned the brazier to an upright position, gathered up the spilled coals, and with a snap of his fingers lit both at his master's order. "Oh wonderful! And so effortlessly as well!"

Amon scoffed. Lighting matches was hardly a test of any ember mage's ability.

Nor were the twenty-seven pairs that followed into the earth, winding down like a spiral staircase into a massive dome-shaped cavern, which was lit by a large jagged hole in the ceiling. "That was where Cavroun, the last great sand giant, fell after he tried issuing an earthquake to swallow up Bedou and myself. But even that was not the giant's end."

Amon had been about to note the lack of remains until Setophi pointed to the farthest wall, where a pile of ash and giant bones surrounded a stone cairn. In front of the cairn was a crude wooden stand, upon which dangled a scarlet crystal object attached to a golden chain. It instantly commanded Amon's attention as the light from above danced upon it and cast the ground in a blood red hue.

"That is what my master took to become the dragon, and finally end Cavroun's reign of terror upon the southern barrens. The Dragon's Tear. It is the raw essence of magic, bled from the most ancient of dragons as they expired. It is a focus of incredible power, and in the hands of a proper mage, it can cause that mage to transcend beyond any mortal limits."

Setophi approached the stand and the cairn, his face and voice grieving, "But at great cost. As much as the flames of the dragon will consume all that oppose you, so will it consume you. It is the last, greatest, final act that an ember mage can perform."

"And is this why you've never claimed it for yourself?"

"No. For in the hands of someone such as myself, I fear the consequences would be even worse. I do not even want to contemplate becoming death itself."

It was easy to forget that Setophi was a necromancer by talent, as it was a skill he never used to its fullest, and had vowed never to do beyond channeling spirits for guidance and wisdom.

"But you... I think it is best suited in your hands," Setophi declared. "Go ahead, young man, claim the Tear as your own."

Gilgamesh whined softly as Amon nervously complied, stepping forward as Setophi stepped aside. The Dragon's Tear wasn't nearly as large as he thought it was based on the kaleidoscope of color it cast around it. It didn't even fill his palm in fact, his mother had larger necklaces in her jewelry closet.

But he could definitely feel its power, a tremendous, intimidating power as the blood red crystal tinted orange with what looked to be a flicker of flame. "Ah... it has attuned to you so very quickly," Setophi commented with pride, "Yes... I do believe this was meant to be in your possession. There is much you need to learn to use it effectively, and we will begin such things upon our return to the circle."

* * *

It was near nightfall by the time that the pair returned to the nomad's camp, the shaman brushing off concern for his well being, and leading Amon to the inner etching, motioning for the younger mage to take the head of the circle. "This night is for you."

Amon complied, though with a hint of reluctance, until Gilgamesh curled up in his lap and made escape impossible without moving the thermite hound. He wasn't sure he wanted to encourage the old nomad that he was willing to take such a position. But he had to admit, that for the first time in a long time, that he was genuinely interested in learning more.

"The dragons of the past age were deeply attuned to the world, so much so that their blood is connected to the very world itself. You can use that to gain such a connection yourself."

"I thought using the Dragon's Tear would be the death of me."

"Using it to awaken a dragon's fire will be the end of you. Using it to amplify your own meditations will not. I think it will be a worthwhile journey for you, to see the world from the world's eyes."

Amon nodded in understanding.

"You need to find your center. Once you do that, the Dragon's Tear will find _you_."

Finding one's "center" really wasn't much more than finding a state of total relaxation, Amon had found, despite Setophi's insistence that it was the point where all your material and spiritual energies connected in some grand metaphysical alchemy. Amon rather found it to be like that moment just before you fall asleep, where your sense fade and you slip into dreams.

"Amon can you hear me?"

Setophi's voice felt distant, even more so than when Amon normally was in meditation.

"Good. It might become very difficult to hear my voice once the Dragon's Tear connects to you. I strongly advise you do so, at least until you become used to the experience. Be ready. for it begins..."

Begins was a gentle way of describing it. There was something akin to a blast of a mighty gale that rung in his ears, which he instinctively knew was a hurricane bearing down on a land far across the greatest oceans. He crossed the Middle Sea and the Arabian sands at the same time, his consciousness stretching from frozen pole to frozen pole and back over itself. The "New World" to the west _and _east. A world of sensations all at once, it was overwhelming and awe-inspiring all at the same time.

"Amon... can you still hear me?"

"Yes, master. Though it is as hard as you said. There's so many other voices and sounds."

"Splendid. Every living thing is connected to the world, and even if lightly, you can feel them all. Every emotion, every life, even for someone like me, it was a delight to experience."

"It is... it..." Amon began, though he was immediately distracted from his words. He felt his existence shift, bobbing and shaking like in the wake of a large vessel. "Master... there is someone... or something... else here. Very prominently."

"Are you sure?"

Amon shivered so violently that it almost shook him out of his meditations, forcing him to re-establish his center and focus again. Now that he was ready for whatever it was, he was able to keep himself properly balanced. He could feel this being spreading out much like he had earlier.

"Yes. I sense an intelligence. Very powerful. Tremendously powerful. It's searching..."

"Contact it."

The order completely jolted Amon out of his meditation, and startling Gilgamesh who yipped in displeasure. "Are you _insane?_" the young mage demanded. "Whatever that thing is, it is stronger than the two of us put together!"

Setophi sighed, "Which means whatever this was is most assuredly a mage with a Dragon's Tear. Another mage, with another artifact, and most assuredly _not _Tamiya, the storm mage of the east, for he would have introduced himself. This is a completely new mage... one that would be of immense benefit to identify, either as friend _or _foe."

Amon inhaled and exhaled slowly. "Very well," he said, closing his eyes again and falling into his meditative trance. Maybe if he was lucky, by the time he was attuned with the Dragon's Tear again, the unknown mage would have retreated.

No such luck. The overwhelming presence was still there, but it seemed more... frantic. It was looking for something, and not finding it.

Amon reached forward, with a simple message. _Greetings. Can you identify yourself?_

There was no response from the presence, swirling around and through him like a frigid storm. If it even knew he was there, it was showing no signs of such. Repeating the query three times yielded no better results.

"Well?" Setophi asked.

"There is no reply," Amon answered, somewhat irritated.

Setophi's tone shifted to grim. "That is troublesome. This mage might not be aware of your presence. He might not even _know _you are there. This... could be bad."

Amon had to force himself not to jar his concentration. "How bad are we talking about?"

"This mage could lose himself within the Tear, within the world's consciousness, and be lost forever."

Amon could hear Gilgamesh's soft warning growl directed at Setophi. "I would have liked to have known that _before _I made a similar foray."

"_You _know how to anchor yourself. If this mage does not... you _must_ grab his attention."

"And how exactly will I do that?"

"It could be risky."

"Riskier than drowning in an ocean I didn't even know about until you told me _after _I had already waded into the deeps?"

Setophi refused to rise to the bait. There were more important things. "You must inject your own power into the Dragon's Tear. You will need to invoke a hint of the dragon's flame. Just a short flash, and you _must _pull yourself back as immediately as you can."

Amon grunted, "So... you want me to risk immolating myself to save some unknown mage who might wish to eradicate us as soon as look at us."

"I believe in you."

"Appreciated, but not an answer to my question."

"Yes. It _is _worth it to extend our boundaries. Mages are rare as it is. We can't afford sitting idle while they potentially disappear before our eyes."

Amon growled in annoyance. If he didn't do what his master said, he'd never hear the end of it, either from his master _or _his father. "As you wish. How do I do this?"

"Much like any technique you use, only focus your power into the dragon's tear. Let its heat ignite your body and soul."

The younger mage complied, and discovered it was a remarkable chore keeping his focus inward as he felt his physical body erupt with heat that not even he could shrug off with indifference. Just that short flash was enough to convince him to never go further... but it was enough.

He felt the unknown presence shift, no longer reaching randomly, and quite distinctly focus on him. Again reaching out mentally, he said, _I was wondering how I was going to get your attention. __Can you understand me?_

He felt more than heard an affirmative. "I don't think our unknown mage knows how to speak telepathically."

"That would not be surprising for an untrained hedge mage without any formal training. Then teach him. It's not hard... if you know how."

It really wasn't... but it wasn't something mages did often, as it was just as effective to simply vocalize what you wanted to say. It's only real practical purpose was to communicate secretly between mages so that the non-gifted couldn't hear... which was also not something mages wanted to do much anyway. Being suspected of keeping secrets was one way that a mage could get a lot of people in power very angry very quickly.

_Focus on me. Focus on my voice, on my presence. Form your words in your head, and push them to mine._

What followed surprised him. Not that their unknown mage replied... but that the voice was distinctively female.

Alluringly female at that. A full, beautifully toned voice, one that would no doubt make songbirds green with envy.

_Are... are you a real person?_

Amon let a hint of humor inflect his mental voice. _So I am told._

_ Are you a frost mage?_

Amon's physical eyebrows turned upward, prompting Setophi to ask, "What did he say?"

The younger mage's reply was laced with amusement, "_She _asked if _I _was a frost mage."

"She?" Setophi repeated, quite surprised. While the nomads were willing to embrace _any _arcane talent, most other cultures were not, either because it wasn't their place in society (like in Aqaba), or because of fears of witchcraft. "We are most certainly dealing with an untrained talent, especially considering I had thought the frost mages died out over a century ago."

_Are you? _Amon asked of this woman that he was finding increasingly interesting.

_That's what I'm told. I... really don't know any others._

_ Not surprising. My master tells me that he hasn't heard of any of your kind in about a hundred years. __There aren't many mages of any discipline, I'm afraid to say._

There was no mistaking the forlorn tone that followed. _I know that all too well. But... there's you now, isn't there?_

_ Yes, that is true. And a few others. There are three ember mages in Aqaba, __and about ten around the empire, though I must admit I have never actually met them. In fact, I do believe I've exchanged more words with you just now than I have with any of my peers._

The feminine voice turned to amusement. _I assume you know their names at least._

Amon laughed. _I do. I suppose you should know mine as well. I am Amon Din'Abar, though I'm sure the name means little to you._

_ Well, I am Elsa Idundottir, Queen of Arendelle, though I doubt you even know of my land._

Amon had to admit he didn't, but he definitely was intrigued by the idea of a mage queen. He was going to have to do some study. _I am looking forward to learn._

Elsa's laugh was bitter. _I don't even know how I got to this point. Much less how to do it again._

_ Well, the act of centering is not particularly difficult. I could probably teach you by the time we part ways._

Bitterness turned to astonishment. _I... I would like that. Very much._

Maybe this entire study as a mage wasn't all that bad...

* * *

There was a short period of time in the following weeks where Amon expected his father to be pleased that Amon was pouring an unprecedented amount of time into his arcane study. He should have expected disappointment on that score. Governing the lands of Sinai consumed the attention of his father nigh entirely.

_How large is Sinai? I know the Empire of Aqaba is enormous, but I can't say I know much about the regions that comprise it._

Of course, his father's disinterest meant few questions as to _why _he was putting so much emphasis on his studies unexpectedly.

His meetings with Elsa were officially reserved for dusk and for the first hours of the night, where he could tutor her in relative peace. But there were also times where they would delve during moments of rest just in case they could catch each other. Those conversations were often about anything other than magic.

_Well, I do not mean this as a brag, but the whole of Arendelle could sit in a corner of my father's influence and rattle. I suppose I cannot blame him for being so indisposed._

Elsa sighed. _It's still a shame. I... still miss my parents dearly. I wish your father could understand how it all could end at any time._

_ It wasn't always like this. Before my father was chosen to be Caliph... he was invested heavily in our lives. My fondest memories were taking our skiff out onto the Middle Sea and fishing for sharks._

_ You fished for __**sharks**__?_

Amon laughed. _Not large ones. Not the massive beasts of the open sea that could bite a man in half. The Middle Sea has many smaller varieties, and our people will occasionally fish for those. Excellent meat, very tender, especially when grilled in an olive oil glaze. Although there was one time..._

Elsa sounded worried. _One time... what?_

_ We were fishing for Tope, about ten years ago at this point. And we caught one... as well as the Tiger Shark that had swallowed the Tope whole just as my father and I set our hooks. The thing was almost as large as our skiff, thrashing about and nearly tipping us several times. _Amon paused as the memory brought him to audible laughter. _We couldn't get close enough to push it back into the water, and instead spent ten minutes beating it with our oars until it finally went still. That... was a trophy that my father had to mount from the side._

"Amon? What are you doing?"

Neferiti was remarkably quiet when she wanted to be, and remarkably loud when you didn't.

"I am meditating, Neferiti."

"In the middle of the day? Brother, what are you _really _doing?"

_Amon? _Elsa asked, concerned.

_My sister. She is being a nuisance, as is her custom._

_ At least your sister has the excuse of being a teenager. Mine is a full grown woman, and is still a bother. She cornered me in my ice garden and interrogated me about you. Like I'm some wilting flower that will jeopardize my kingdom over love of a dangerous stranger._

"Amon! Come on! Tell meeeeee!"

Amon was so surprised to hear his mother's voice that it jolted him from his meditation. "Neferiti! You know better than to behave so crudely. You are a young woman, not a child. Leave your brother in peace!"

"But..."

"Thank you, mother, but she is not a bother," Amon said, hoping to quell any possible punishment his mother would impose on his sister, "Magus Setophi tells me I need to learn how to meditate through distractions anyway."

"Very well, but I would rather she not get the idea that a Caliph's daughter should behave in such a fashion."

Amon smirked, "Consider it her contributing to my training."

Hatsepsut wasn't quite as hard-nosed as her husband when it came to discipline, so she did relent. "Oh, very well. But if your father ever chides either of you for behavior such as this, do not _dare _tell him I encouraged it."

Their mother then departed, and Neferiti addressed her brother in gratitude, "My thanks, Amon. You sure are... hey!"

Amon had already drifted back into meditation, and was bothered that Elsa had also departed. He would have to apologize in the evening.

"Okay, now you're grumpy. What is going on with you?"

"Nothing that concerns you, sister," he grumbled. "When it does, you will be the first to know."

Neferiti frowned, then grumbled suspiciously, "Who is Elsa?"

Amon's eyes flashed open in shock, "Where did you hear that name?"

"You mumble it in your sleep. I overheard you when I was coming back from..." she then flushed brightly, and added, "Ummm... what were we talking about again?" she then finished with a pair of nervous chuckles.

On one hand, Amon knew Neferiti had been slipping out of the palace lately, often at night, and he wanted to pry into his sister's potentially dangerous forays. On the other, he really didn't want to have to answer questions about Elsa, at least not yet. "We shall never talk about this again. Understand?"

"Understood."

* * *

Spring meant that the nomads' camp moved further south, which also meant that Amon's travels to the circle took him the entirety of the day, which also meant that he started to delve into arts that would make his father's skin crawl.

But Setophi understood that untrained talent was dangerous, and during those times where the nomads were farther away from the watchful eye of the city of Sinai that he would mix in darker lessons with the ember talents he was supposed to be learning.

All of those lessons that he was now seriously applying himself to along with the travel meant that he would return to the family palace in a state just short of exhausted. Which was why he didn't exactly respond politely when a manservant relayed word that his father demanded to see him immediately.

"What did I do?" he grumbled, "I've been away since morning light."

"I do not know. It is not my place to ask."

Amon growled as he dropped his pack onto the floor of his chambers, and followed the manservant to his parents' chamber on the palace's north side and near the top of the dome, with a balcony that overlooked the Middle Sea.

His father didn't seem angry, nor was his mother. They certainly seemed _confused_, especially when his mother asked, "Who is Anna Idundottir?"

Amon's face contorted at the name. It would have been one thing if they knew who Elsa was, as Neferiti could have tattled or been coerced into doing so. But he would have had no reason to invoke the name of Elsa's sister. "I am sorry?"

His father's eyes narrowed, as if just his stare could unveil any mistruth. "This letter arrived from couriers this morning after you left. It is addressed to you."

Amon took that letter, in a pink envelope and indeed with Anna's and Amon's name and location, scented in lavender. That was no doubt what had sparked concern. On one hand, Amon was relieved they hadn't opened it or discovered anything about Elsa. On the other, this was something Amon would have to defuse.

"You _do _understand how... uncomfortable such missive are?" his mother asked. "Especially one... scented in such a fashion."

His father spoke. "I took to learning about Arendelle. It is a land far to the north. We don't even have emissaries out that far. How do you know a woman from such a far off land?"

Amon shook his head. "I don't." It wasn't technically a lie. He knew _of _Anna, but nothing else. "I do not know why this woman would send anything to me." _That _was stretching the truth slightly. He had a guess what the letter was about, though he had no idea why it was given such a... suggestive presentation.

His confusion about that conveniently worked in his favor, as his parents mistook it as confusion towards the sender. Amon opened said letter, and took in its contents, hoping that he could play this properly. It helped that it was in a Germanic tongue that he had only begun to study (and likely would not have bothered at all if not for Elsa's arrival in his life), which helped reinforce the impression that he was as puzzled as his parents were.

_Dearest Amon,_

_ I apologize if I seem forward, but I need to know what your intentions are. My sister, Elsa, has become more than a little enamored with the man you present yourself to be through this "Dragon's Tear" my sister received, but I know from personal experience that how a man presents himself to one person does not always reflect his character._

_ I am immune to flattery and sweet words, so if you deign to reply, don't bother wasting your pen on them. What do you think to accomplish? Do you desire to steal my sister off to your southern empire? Do you think to come here? Do you plan to tease my sister's emotions until she is old and gray? Or are you, in fact, a man only interested in tutoring her, and her affections misplaced?_

_ I need to know these things so that I know how to approach my sister in the future. If you have no romantic desires, she needs to be informed of this as immediately as possible. If you do __return those feelings, you must be made aware that Arendelle needs her. I need her, and I will not suffer her taken from me._

_ Sort your thoughts, "ember mage." I will be awaiting them if you dare stand for yourself._

_Sincerely,_

_Anna Idundottir_

_Princess of Arendelle_

_P.S. Don't tell Elsa I wrote to you. Consider it the first test of your sincerity._

Well, that was certainly combative. Perhaps Amon _would _have to address them, if for no reason than to ease potential tension building between Elsa and her sister. But for the moment, he slid the letter back into its envelope, and said, "The only thing I can fathom is that there is another Amon Din'Abar somewhere in this vast world, and the courier's guild merely assumed it must be addressed for me... because I know nothing about what this woman is trying to say."

He handed the envelope back to his father, who predictably tried to read it himself. "Yes, that would seem to be the case. This isn't even written in any language of Aqaba I recognize."

Amon's mother spoke next, "I do apologize, my beloved son, if it seemed we were accusing you. These sort of matters are extremely... delicate, and require considerable negotiation even under the best of circumstances. You _are _aware that a dalliance with a woman who is not ordained in the Faith of the One True God and not recognizing the Faceless Prophet would be a blasphemy and shame upon our family?"

Amon eyed his mother coldly. Like he could have forgotten. "Yes, I am aware, mother."

For once, it was his father who spoke indirectly in his defense, "Our son needs not worry about _my _shame, or yours. Nor should we chide him for something obviously not of his fault. I am sorry for the bother, Amon. You are dismissed."

His mother's words hung with him as he returned to his chambers, mostly because he _was _painfully aware of them whenever he heard Elsa's voice. And that he was becoming increasingly infatuated with each meeting, despite how much of a social and political disaster it would be.

He couldn't help it. This woman was spellbinding, and his heart went out to her the more he learned about her and what she went through to reach this point. She was an inspiration, someone who made _his _problems seem petty and small. She made him _want _to be a mage worthy of her attention. Someone who could help her reach her potential as much as she helped him.

And yet, he desired much more than that... desires he couldn't have.

It was that sentiment that he presented in his reply to Anna, at least he hoped considering his only passing familiarity with her language. He'd have to improve on that.

By the time he had the letter finished, and had one of the palace maidservants place it in the courier's queue to leave the palace, it was past sundown, and he panicked, hoping that Elsa hadn't decided to give up and go to sleep waiting for him.

_Well, there you are. I was starting to think you weren't going to talk to me tonight._

Amon smiled in spite of himself. _The road home from the circle is long and will only get longer __until the coming of fall__. Then I had business with my parent's to tend to. I apologize if you were waiting long. _He declined to explain exactly what that business was... he didn't want to cause tension between Elsa and her sister.

_ I've had a difficult time sleeping anyway. I'd just be laying in my bed staring upwards._

_Something troubling you?_

Elsa's voice turned airy. _Yes, but it's a good kind of troubling._

_A good kind of troubling, you say?_

_ It's the sort of happiness that you know will cause so many problems, but you don't care because it makes you so very happy._

Amon's heart lurched. _I know that sort of feeling._

_Oh, I am going to stop prattling, and I am going to say it, because it needs to be said. I think... no, there's no think about it. I'm in love with you, Amon. Hopelessly, terribly, yet happily. __I find myself unable to think of much else than how happy even your voice makes me. Listen to me! I'm babbling!_

It was such a relief to have Elsa breach that unspoken sentiment. _And I you, as bad an idea as it would be. I can't help it either. You... understand me and my troubles more than anyone I know._

Elsa didn't really need to be told of the problems. _There's no way we can be together, is there?_

_ You are not a follower of the One True God, nor do you recognize his prophet. _Amon explained. _If I were some layman, it wouldn't be an issue outside of family drama. __But for a son of a Caliph, it would be a scandal of the highest order. It would bring shame to my family, and men of high standing have been executed for less._

He could hear Elsa's breathless gasp. _I shouldn't be surprised. The neighboring lands aren't much better than that as to who royalty can associate with, though that doesn't __really stop them. It can also get incredibly bloody. God, can you imagine the nightmare it would be if you came here?_

Amon was curious. _How so?_

_ My kingdom has next to no allies as it is. I'm a barely tolerated monster... can you imagine the panic if another monster like me appeared? It'd probably spark a war._

_ If they had the guts to challenge you and I. _Amon said slyly. _If they dared to listen to our song of fire and ice._

He loved hearing Elsa's laugh, though the amusement faded quickly. _Such is my luck, isn't it? All the hell I've lived through, and when I finally find someone who connects with me... he's half a world away with burdens that make mine feel light._

_ I think you underestimate your burdens._

Elsa sighed. _It doesn't matter though. I still love you, and it hurts._

Amon agreed. _One as my witness, it hurts so much, doesn't it?_

_I'm not going to stop, though. I rely on you for so much more than my affections._

_ And I you._

"Amon?"

_I am sorry, my dear northern light, but my sister beckons. She should be asleep._

_ Don't start with the nicknames. I will find a way to choke you. But I should sleep as well._

He tried to paint a pleasant face, "I am surprised you are still awake, Neferiti."

She saw right through him, no doubt helped by Gilgamesh's whimper as the hound looked up towards his creator. Neferiti scratched the thermite hound under the chin and said, "You know I like staying up for you, dear brother! Especially when something is troubling you."

"Nothing is..."

Neferiti dropped down on her knees, her nose inches from his. "Don't try to lie to me! You're _not _good at it, as we have established. Is it about Elsa?"

Amon eyed her warily.

"It is! Isn't it? So... who is she? That's not an Aqaban name."

"No, it's not," Amon replied. "It's far north, past even the North Sea."

"So how do you know her?"

Amon cocked an eyebrow, "How are you so sure Elsa's a woman?"

"Because brother, if men interested you so, I would have noticed by now. But stop trying to deflect. Who is she?"

"She's a frost mage. Mostly untrained. I've been helping her through meditative connections through this Dragon's Tear."

"Oh." Neferiti said in awe. Unlike their older brother Ramses IV, Neferiti was fascinated with Amon's talent. "And _that _allows you to talk to someone _that _far away?"

"Yes."

"And allows you to fall in love?" she teased.

Amon sighed, deciding he might as well come clean. He knew Neferiti would keep this in confidence. "It would seem to be the case."

"Is she pretty?"

"Does it matter?"

Neferiti shrugged, "Well, if you're going to violate laws of the prophet, I think it would be more understandable if she was."

"I _have _seen people of the north before. I highly doubt Elsa is a traditional beauty by Aqaban standard. But I honestly don't see the significance." The mage dropped his head, and said, "It's of no matter anyway. I cannot leave here without causing shame to my family, and she is a queen of her land."

Neferiti wrapped her arms around Amon's neck. "I'm sorry, dear brother."

"She lives around neighbors who despise her and fear her talents. As much as mages of our empire live in isolation, none of my kind are hated. That I can offer her a sympathetic ear that understands her gifts and the curse they can be... it's worth it. Even if the distance hurts. It's also helped me accept the gifts _I _have. How can I cast aspersions and let those gifts stagnate and die when others suffer so much worse and yet seek to better themselves in spite of it?"

"Hah! Seems Elsa is not the only one receiving lessons."

Amon chuckled. "No, she is not. I've become a better student, if for no reason it helps me teach her."

"Well, I'm not supposed to know anything about this, but if the One True God blesses your feelings, He will find a way to bring you together."

Amon eyed his sister warily, "Since when do you recite the teachings?"

Neferiti shrugged playfully, "I'll have you know I do many things in the name of our faith. I just don't bellow out my actions for all to hear."

"Oh? And what do you do?"

Neferiti lowered her voice, and said, "I suppose it is fair, as you have told me your secret. When I sneak out at night... I use my station to get travel papers and money to escaped slaves and abused women and children."

Amon's eyes widened. Aqaba was an empire of many peculiarities, with many barbaric practices from the various lands tribal origins that were technically forbidden by the law of the Faceless Prophet, but were still practiced and accepted, like slavery and mutilation of daughters. What Neferiti was doing was definitely abusing her station (or more accurately their father's), even if for a righteous cause.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

Neferiti's eyes twinkled playfully. "Good!"

He ruffled his sister's hair, causing her to yelp in protest. "Ack! Villain! Gilgamesh, attack!"

The thermite hound playfully obeyed, pouncing on Amon's chest and knocking his master over while both humans laughed, sucking the heavy air out of the room. Neferiti was rather good at such disarming.

* * *

Amon was determined to maintain his own study to keep up with any questions Elsa might have. Even he noted how much quicker he learned and mastered his art when he was actively seeking to master it. It was not something that those close to him missed.

"The Coming of Summer is soon," Setophi said to his meditating charge.

"Is that so?" Amon replied indifferently.

"You could pretend to be listening to me rather than talking with your distanced beloved."

Setophi had been one of the first to notice Amon's affection to Elsa, even before Amon acknowledged it himself. The younger mage huffed, "Since the Dragon Tear takes on a glow while its being channeled, you should know that I am not. I am balancing myself after my latest exercises."

"An ember mage hasn't lit the great fires of the amphitheater in nearly fifty years," Setophi commented.

Amon knew what he was talking about. The Great Theatre of Sinai, located on the waterfront, was where the people of the city would celebrate the change of seasons. In this case, was the summer, season of fire. Each season used to have a corresponding mage school to represent it, life mages for the spring, ember for fire, decay for autumn, and necromancers for winter. Much like everything else, mages to represent those seasons during their respective celebrations have become increasingly rare, and one hasn't represented _any _season since Amon was born twenty-five years ago.

"And you want me to," Amon correctly surmised.

"I think it would be a good symbol for the land, for the empire, that the age of magic and mystery aren't quite dead yet."

Amon's eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he said, "You are scheming something, old man."

Setophi brushed off the accusation. "I am proud of the growth you have had in just these three months. And to light the braziers of the summer flame with your magics would no doubt get your father's attention."

Amon tried to pretend that didn't perk his interest, but failed. The distance between father and son the last ten years since Ramses III became Caliph of Sinai was one that still gnawed at Amon, especially since his father hadn't really acknowledged that Amon was now devoted in the way that the father desired.

"Ah ha, I knew I could catch your interest," Setophi said with a grin. "What say you, young man?"

Amon sighed in resignation, then smiled. "Oh very well, old man. Nothing like a day's notice to prepare for one of the most exhausting feats an ember mage can attempt."

Setophi laughed heartily, "You are more than ready. Even without the Dragon's Tear, you are of a level that has not been seen in a good long time."

Amon smiled to himself, knowing that he couldn't hold a candle to Elsa. She'd turn it to ice in a blink... and everything else within a day's distance. Amon wondered if anyone really understood the extent of Elsa's might... even herself.

Elsa was quick to offer her support on the day of the event, freeing up time to offer encouragement to her more-than-friend as he meditated before he would be summoned for his part of the festivities.

_This doesn't tire you, does it? _She asked.

_Does it tire you?_

Elsa considered this, then decided she answered her own question, and shifted the topic. _You're go__ing to__ do great! Does your master know you plan to light all eight braziers at once?_

The amphitheater was dug into the bedrock along the coast, with the braziers at what was true ground level and aligned with the eight significant compass directions. Even the days where ember mages were common, they would generally ignite them one at a time, starting at the south where the winds of summer blew, then moving north and west before turning to the south and east.

Particularly ambitious mages would light the south, and move northward simultaneously before lighting the north last. Lighting all eight at once required tremendous power and concentration, and only the most renown of his kind would even _attempt _it.

_No. He would probably consider me insane to try it._ Amon finally admitted.

_And you're going to attempt it anyway?_

_ The old man is scheming something, I know it. __I want to have a surprise for him as well._

Amon felt that he could die happy if the last sound he heard was Elsa's laugh. _Well, I wish you the best. However, I fear I need to join my sister in celebration. She's officially announced she's with child._

_ That is a celebration worth having. I will meet you again in the late evening._

He felt Elsa leave the communal presence they shared, leaving Amon to his own thoughts. Without that distraction, he expected doubt and nervousness to start creeping in, but to his own surprise, his determination didn't waver. Even _actively _thinking about the insanity of what he was planning didn't sway him. He was going to shock every single person in that amphitheater.

He heard his name called, and that was his cue to stand and take his position at the dais in the center of arena. The response from the assembly was mixed, half silent in anticipation of something that hadn't been seen in nearly three generations, and the other half completely uninterested in something they weren't convinced was going to happen.

Amon no doubt helped the second group when he didn't exactly get right to the spectacle, taking several breaths and many painfully long seconds to gather his power. While talking with Elsa didn't tire him, it didn't allow him to prepare ahead of time either.

But when he did unleash his might, it came in eight, distinct white hot flashes that did exactly what he intended to do... set all eight large braziers alight in an instant, billowing plumes of flame that rose twenty feet for several seconds before the flames retreated into a natural fire.

The response was everything he had expected. The crowd went silent in hushed awe and necks craned in every direction, confirming what had just happened. Within the Caliph's box seats, his father leaned out from the covered balcony to assess what he had seen. His mother didn't need to see for herself, leaning back against her chair with eyes narrowed in surprise.

His brother and sister were ecstatic, Neferiti jumping out of her chair and bouncing happily while cheering his name. Ramses IV had also stood, but resorted to animated clapping in approval.

Setophi, meanwhile looked far too smug for Amon's tastes. So much for surprising the old man... whatever he was planning, Amon's actions seemed to have played right into his hands. He forced back any suspicions to bow gratefully to the audience that was now roaring with delight, then retreated to his seat off the dais with a broad smile. Gilgamesh curled up underneath Amon's chair again, and went back to sleep.

Amon supposed it figured that the one being usually the most excitable in any other circumstance would be the least impressed by a geninunely remarkable feat.

His excitement refused to dampen through the afternoon and evening. Even if it didn't surprise his master, the look on his father's face, a mix of amazement and awe melding into beaming pride... like his father realized for the first time in years that his son existed.

It was a look that didn't disappear even when Neferiti arrived. "Amon, our father wishes to speak with you. Promptly."

Amon shrugged, and fell in behind his sister. Nothing his father could possibly say or chide him about could rattle him at this point. Or at least... so he thought.

He expected that their father would still be in the main hall at this hour, but instead Neferiti's path took them to their parents' chambers. Inside was an entire gathering of everyone close to Amon, his father and mother, brother, _and _Setophi.

That the nomad dared "civilize" himself in such a fashion told Amon that whatever Setophi had been planning was going to come to a head here.

His mother was at his father's side sitting at the end of their bed, his father holding his head down solemnly. "I am only going to ask one time. And I do not expect to be lied to. Who is Elsa Idundottir?"

Amon's eyes dashed between Setophi and Neferiti, momentarily trying to guess which one of them had been the one to break the secret. He quickly decided it didn't matter. "She is the Queen of Arendelle, a small kingdom to the north. I first met her as an untrained frost mage through meditations under the observation of Magus Setophi."

There wasn't any reason not to hold back any details at this point. "We first met in the winter. Over the course of these months, we've grown very close. I... I love her, and if circumstances were different, I'd be on the first ship across the Middle Sea."

His father finally looked up. Ramses III, Caliph of Sinai, looked distraught and betrayed, Amon's mother attempting to soothe him while she herself looked saddened. But the reason why they both were saddened surprised Amon.

"When... when did I fail as a father that you felt you could not be truthful with me?"

The question stunned Amon, mostly because the answer should have been obvious. "When my father ended, and the Caliph began," he said darkly, "and the laws that governed the Caliph made the father impossible to reach."

Hatsepsut patted her husband on his shoulders, "I told you."

"Embrace the family, for it is the measure of a man," Amon's father recited, "They are your anchor in all troubled waters." He again looked up at his son, "I am supposed to represent the Faceless Prophet's wisdom, and I failed such a simple command. And I knew I was failing it too."

Neferiti was moved by her father's sorrow, moving to his side. The eldest brother also offered comfort, but the father would have little of it, "I watched as if a blind man, as someone else built up my son into the man he was destined to be. Is this true, Amon? Is this queen of the north the reason for the man who stands before me? Powerful, bold, and confident, embracing his every talent to its fullest?"

Amon nodded. "Yes."

Finally, Ramses III stood, and it surprised Amon as he realized for the first time that he wasn't looking up at his father. "Then you must thank her for me, when you meet her in person."

Amon's eyes flared open even as he kept his lips from twisting upwards. Did his father just...

"You have my blessing to pursue your heart wherever it takes you," his father added, "I'll send along a formal declaration to this queen in Arendelle, but I suspect you'll be able to deliver that word quicker than any courier."

"The other Caliphs..." Amon sputtered.

"They are more than welcome to purge me from my seat," Amon's father said. "At this point, I'd welcome it more than hate it. I've lost too much time with my family due to this accursed duty. That must change, whether I remain Caliph or not."

Setophi finally spoke. "Besides, I think the other Caliphs will be more than willing to look the other way considering that it will be a union of two highly talented mages. Worry not about those you are about to leave behind. Look back fondly and without remorse. Focus on the road ahead, like all upstanding men of the empire must do."

Neferiti left her father to hug her brother, "Don't forget to write to me, every day!"

Amon chuckled, and patted his sister, "I'm not going anywhere tonight, girl. But I will do what I can."

His father offered a tired smile, "Now go... because I think you have news to share."

It was everything Amon could do to keep his pace to a very brisk walk. He _wanted _to do a skip at full sprint if proper decorum and simple physics would have allowed it. On top of that, he knew that Elsa was likely already waiting for their usual evening meeting, and didn't want to make her wait any longer, especially since he had _very _important news that she would most definitely want to hear.

Once in his chambers, he didn't even let Gilgamesh settle in his lap before he was pulling back to his center in meditation.

_There you are. _Elsa said, her voice teasing. _Trouble with the family again?_

_ Not trouble at all. In fact, it's the best meeting with my family that I've had in months._

_ Oh?_

Amon couldn't really think of a way to tease her with the news. He just had to say it. _My master ratted our relationship out to my father. __Rather than the worst, it proved to be for the best.__My father__ has given me his blessing to go to you in Arendelle. _

He heard Elsa gasp, and her response didn't seem like she allowed herself to breathe. _Are... are you serious?_

Perhaps he shouldn't be enjoying her response as much as he was, but he couldn't help but smile. _He plans to send official word allowing me to travel and join you in your court... provided you would have me._

Elsa could barely stammer out her next words. _Yes! I... Yes! Yes! Please yes!_

_Elsa... dearest... breathe._

_ I'm... I'm trying. You just have to off and say it, don't you? Don't even give me time to brace myself. I wasn't even sitting down, and I'm surprised retainers aren't pounding down my door because I just about knocked everything off my desk in my surprise. You're a wicked man._

Amon's laugh was matched by hers. _I couldn't think of a way to ease you into the news. It's something very important to me._

_ To __**us**__. _Elsa corrected.

_Yes,__t__o us.__ I will depart as soon as I am able, my love. Preparing for a cross continental journey is not an overnight undertaking._

* * *

And it wasn't. It took a week in and of itself for Amon to convince his father that sending him along with a full honor guard and escort probably wouldn't be received well by Arendelle's neighbors. Aqaba was a southern specter that lingered just out of their sight with unclear motivations to those northern lands.

It obviously made his father nervous to send his son alone into the wide world, but Amon finally convinced the Caliph it was for the best. With supplies prepared, and money to help fund any unexpected changes to the planned route, Amon prepared to board the merchant ship that would cross the Middle Sea to Hispania, where he would go north through Gaul and to the shores of the North Sea, and take another merchanter boat to Olsenland. From there, it would be roughly a day and half's journey to Arendelle.

It seemed _much _simpler in planning than it would be in reality. At _least _a two month voyage, if all went perfectly well... and ask anyone who has ever traveled, such trips _never _go flawlessly.

The crew aboard the ship started taking a pool as to how long it would take for Amon to get seasick. While that didn't happen, there was something _else _that churned his stomach on the fourth day out to sea.

A single seagull, perched on a solitary rocky outcrop in otherwise open water, squawking in an unholy mess of sound. Amon pointed out to the bird and said, "Clearly that poor thing is suffering. Can someone put it out of our misery?"

The deckhand next to him laughed, "Ah, leave poor Scuttle be! He's good luck for any voyage. His songs keep the creatures of the deep at bay."

Amon rubbed his ears painfully, "I can imagine. I don't want to be anywhere near that bird either."

"Of course, it's not the same bird as the one my grandpa talks about. That's a popular sitting point for gulls, jetsam washes up there pretty easily, a nice meal and a place to rest. Gulls _all _sound terrible. Just a bit of ol' seafaring superstition, is what it is. Like mermaids and sea witches."

Or just another sign of magic dying away, Amon thought to himself. Sad how only now did such thoughts bother him.

"You're the ember mage, right?" the deckhand asked.

"I am."

"Going to fight the Snow Queen of Arendelle?"

Amon's eyebrow's raised. "_Fight _her, you say?"

"Granted, it's all rumor and stories, the sort of yarns seamen share in ports and trickle down south, but story goes that the Snow Queen has blanketed her realm in an endless winter, and entices young men into her palace of ice. Three kisses she'll give you: once to steal away the cold, twice to steal your memories, thrice to steal your soul."

Amon's lips twitched in amusement. "And where, pray tell, did these stories originate?"

The deckhand shrugged, "Merchants from the Deuschland brought it across Europa to the Middle Sea. Where _they _heard it from, I couldn't tell you."

Amon suspected tales from the Southern Isles, who commanded much of the trade on the North Sea, were responsible for the narrative being spread. His humor of the situation died as he processed this was slander against his northern love. "I would take great care in where you tell your stories," he said with a low growl, "You may not know who they anger."

The deckhand took a step back. While he didn't understand _why _such tales upset Amon, he didn't dare ask either.

Elsa took it better than Amon did when he relayed the story in the evening.

_So that is what is being said about me? _She said with a light laugh.

_ I am afraid so._

_ Fah! I promise you, it won't take me two kisses to make you forget all about Aqaba._

Amon's lip twitched in amusement. _I don't doubt that. You've already stolen my heart, and that didn't even take __**one**__._

He could imagine Elsa rolling her eyes at the flattery. _Spare me your honeyed words. __Save that __tongue__ for when we're face to face._

Amon let Elsa's dismissal of the slanderous tales console him. If it didn't bother her, he had no right letting them twist his sensibilities either.

* * *

Whether due to Scuttle's siren song or not, travel across the Middle Sea was uneventful, as was landing in Hispania. While definitely further of a trip than going straight north through Grecian waters, Hispania was a region of Aqaba, and thus allowed for longer travel through friendly territory. It also meant travel through Gaul rather than Italia and the Byzantines, two kingdoms that had considerable friction with the empire.

Gaul itself was more a loose collection of city states rather than a centralized political body, which he learned meant bandits prowled the roads between such cities with general impunity, attacking anything that didn't look well guarded or dangerous in its own right. Amon and Gilgamesh apparently looked enough like the latter that they didn't need to prove it.

The feeble, old lady in a ragged black cloak didn't, and why she was being bullied off the road towards a ravine edge in central Gaul by four rough looking brigands, clothing in rags, hair and beards unkempt, dirty and unwashed. The woman was warding them off with slow swipes of her walking stick, but at some point, the bandits were going to tire of playing games.

"Gilgamesh... blonde man, closest to us. You see him?" Amon asked as he climbed off his horse.

The thermite hound barked softly in confirmation.

Amon was about to order the hound to show no quarter, but the words of his land's faith echoed in his head. A life taken in anger is a life taken without justice. A life taken without justice makes a man no better than an uncivilized barbarian. So instead, the mage ordered, "Put the fear of the One True God into him. I'll deal with the rest if necessary. Go!"

Gilgamesh lit into flame, tearing across the road with speed that belied his frame, barking violently in his charge. The bandits no doubt had never seen an ember mage before. They had probably never _heard _of an ember mage.

But none of that matter when a hound of hell is charging, followed by a man flippantly breathing flame and smoke while rolling balls of fire across his fingers. Gilgamesh tackled the blonde bandit, clamping onto the sleeve of his right arm and easily throwing him down into the dirt, then perching himself on the man's chest and growling in warning.

"Now, I am not a native of this land," Amon said grimly, "but I have a hard time believing that accosting old travelers is considered proper form even here. Consider this your first and only warning, because if I see any of you again..."

Gilgamesh barked twice and snapped angrily at his prisoner's face.

"Gilgamesh, come!" Amon ordered, the thermite hound obediently heeling and allowing the bandit to stand. To the brigands, Amon finished, "Leave. Do not return. Find somewhere else to be and someone else to bully."

He gave the ruffians no further thought, instead turning his attention to the old woman who was slowly returning to the road. "Are you well, madam?"

He offered his hand to the woman, though she declined to take it. Gilgamesh approached, sniffed, then took a step back, whimpering in confusion. Amon understood what the hound was getting at. There was something... _off_... about this woman.

"Oh, I'm fine, young man," she said with a broken voice. Gaunt fingers tightened around her walking stick, and she continued her walk as if nothing the slightest bit amiss had happened. "Thank you for your assistance."

Amon looked down at Gilgamesh, who gave his master a head tilt and a low whine. "Ma'am... would you like me to escort you?"

"That's hardly necessary."

Amon shook his head, "Please... it would rest ill on my conscience to allow to proceed alone. Are you heading that way?" He asked, pointing towards a large multiple-spired castle at the center of the ravine, connected to the near side by an alabaster bridge.

"Oh no. I've already been there," the old woman replied. "My business there was concluded years ago."

Gilgamesh whimpered again, and Amon didn't disagree. He didn't _think _this woman had any malice towards him, but there was still an aura about her that was making his arms prickle with gooseflesh.

"It's rare that I find someone skilled in art beyond this world," the woman said, her cracked voice smoothing into something lovely and otherworldly. "I apologize if I'm making you uncomfortable."

Amon shook his head in denial, even though he wanted to say that she wasn't making things any better with what he now could identify as enchantment. Setophi warned him of that particular school of magic: devious and cunning, in which nothing was as it seemed. Reality itself bent in strange ways in the presence of an enchanter, and they were people not to be trifled with.

"I do not wish any harm upon you, child. If I did, I'd have already cursed you. I merely wish to offer you a slice of wisdom in exchange for your good deed."

Amon stiffened, and he braced himself. "Very well."

"You have already found love's touch. That is commendable. You also have a pure nobility. That is also commendable. But how far are you willing to go for honor and for love, dear boy?"

Amon hadn't even opened his mouth before the enchantress shushed him. "That is not a question you need to answer to me. Only to yourself, and only when the time is right. Until then, keep it close to your heart."

The enchantress faded away into the air, like a dream upon waking. Gilgamesh whimpered again, and leaned against Amon's right leg. "I agree," Amon said in reponse, "That was a very peculiar meeting. I'm just glad I did not stir her anger. Let's consider it good fortune shall we?"

The thermite hound offered a very unconvincing yip, and Amon slowly mounted his horse to resume their long road towards the North Sea. He agreed with Gilgamesh, honestly, the enchantress's words settling into his gut heavily.

What was in store for the road ahead?

* * *

Amon found it a bit of a headscratcher that the "Southern Isles" were on the _North _Sea, with thousands upon thousands of islands on the Middle Sea much farther to the south. It confounded him how the archipelago kingdom got its name in the first place. He had never set foot in the land, and had no intention to ever do so.

Amon purchased travel on a ship that was avoiding that kingdom for two reasons. First, he was so close to his destination that he didn't want to waste any more time with another stop. Second, he had a feeling if he _did _stop in the Southern Isles that he would wind up turning it into the world largest bonfire.

Somehow he figured that wouldn't reflect well on the Empire of Aqaba.

He stomped below decks, his mood soured by his thoughts. It was a little early to expect Elsa to be waiting, but he figured the meditation alone would help calm him. But soothing was not what fates had in store for the next conversation with the frost queen.

_Amon... there's a problem..._

Concern laced his voice. _What is it, dearest?_

_ There's something... to the north, an unnatural storm being caused by... something. I'm leading an expedition to try and learn more, and hopefully stop it._

Amon protested. _You should have waited for me. Together..._

_ There wasn't time. _Elsa replied. _The storm was approaching Arendelle far too quickly. Even now, I sense that it has turned towards us._

He didn't know what to say other than to express silent worry.

_I know. What I need from you is to wait when you reach Olsenland. One way or another, Anna will be heading there, either to escort you to me... or with the people of Arendelle... when they evacuate in about three days time._

_ Elsa..._

_ I have to go, love. Please... pray for me._

Amon could fight back the moisture in his eyes, nor did he try. _I will. Be safe, my love._

_ I wish I could promise that. I don't like this, Amon. I don't like this at all._

Those would be the last words Amon Din'Abar heard from Queen Elsa when his ship made port in Olsenland.


	3. Chapter 3

**Act 3: Beyond the North Mountain**

Kristoff wasn't entirely happy about being kept entirely in the dark, but reminded himself that Anna and Elsa had a relationship he wasn't always privy to. "Still would have liked to have been in the loop..."

"It was something Elsa told me in confidence," Anna explained, "I think she wanted to avoid curious, prying eyes. What Amon says matches what Elsa told me."

She was distracted by the appearance of Gilgamesh, who dropped his front paws into her lap, and barked happily. Smiling at the unusual dog, she picked him up by the sides, surprised by how light he was, and held him up to her face. His stub of a tail wagged enthusiastically, and he yipped before panting.

Anna crooned, "Aren't _you _a cute little puppy? Yes you are! Just the cutest little puppy wuppy!"

"I wouldn't do that," Amon warned.

Anna turned her head to ask, "Why not?" and it was the only thing that saved her from getting a long black streak from chin to hair line, instead getting the mark of soot along her cheek and ear.

Kristoff and Amon shared a laugh, and they both had to admit it broke the tension around the fire. Anna pursed her lips in annoyance and dropped the thermite hound before she stood up to find a towel, leaving the two men to themselves momentarily.

Gilgamesh approached Kristoff, the thermite hound's eyes hopeful, and Kristoff shut the idea down quickly. "I don't think so, pup."

Gilgamesh returned to his master with a saddened whine, curling up at the ember mage's feet. Kristoff sighed. Any man with a well behaved dog couldn't be malicious. "It's not your fault my beloved wife didn't tell me about you, I shouldn't be angry at you about it," he finally said. "Get some rest, Amon. When I say first light, I mean the instant I see the sky lighten."

Anna knew that, which was why she was defiantly sitting in the middle of the sled's bench before Amon was even there, much less her husband.

"She had to relieve herself, she said," Kristoff grumbled, "Why did I believe her?"

Amon didn't like this as much as Kristoff, "Madam Idundottir..."

"Call me Anna, please."

"Anna, you are a woman with child, and I won't let you endanger yourself recklessly."

She crossed her arms resolutely. "I am also the sister of the woman we're looking for. You said it yourself she's alive."

"Yes... but you still have responsibilities as the acting regent."

"Don't. Care."

He turned to Kristoff, and asked, "Is she always like this?"

Kristoff nodded in resignation. "Yes."

Anna huffed indignantly, and wriggled deeper into the leather cover.

Kristoff patted the ember mage on the shoulder. "I don't like it either, but time is of the essence. Anna, when we get into the mountains, you are going to do exactly as I say, and the _instant _you endanger yourself unnecessarily, I will tie you to the nearest tree and have Gilgamesh watch you until we return. Got it?"

Gilgamesh barked, as if agreeing to the stipulation.

"Fine," Anna said with a sulk.

Amon climbed into the rear section of the sled next to their supplies, and Anna slid over to allow Kristoff to take the reins. Olaf and Gilgamesh settled in between them, though Gilgamesh soon was leaning forward against the front railing and howling happily as Sven picked up speed.

"I sure hope that dog doesn't do this the whole time..." Kristoff muttered before shouting, "Let's go, Sven! Back to Arendelle!"

* * *

If there was good news to be found, Elsa's gambit to lure the heart of the magical storm away from Arendelle worked. Not even a shingle was out of place, the entire kingdom looking like the whole of its population decided to sleep in on a particularly cold autumn morning.

Which wouldn't have been an issue if it hadn't been late summer.

Kristoff could see his breath misting in front of him, though neither he nor Anna were terribly worried about it at first. After all, Elsa had done _far _worse by accident. They started to get concerned when Gilgamesh pulled away from the railing, and dropped down with his ears laid back and a soft whine. "Okay... what's wrong with the dog?"

"No doubt the same thing that worries me," Amon replied, "There's a malice here, a hatred of such intensity that it's lingering in the air."

Anna looked around and said, "But there's no damage to the town."

"I know. The malevolence is so great that Gilgamesh and I can feel it, despite Arendelle _not _being its target. I sincerely doubt it was the result of your sister."

Well, _that _ruined any good news. "So... we shouldn't be telling our people to come back home?"

Amon shrugged, "Honestly? If whatever caused this comes back... I don't think it will really matter where your people are. They might as well enjoy their time in the comfort of their own homes."

"You aren't very good at this 'reassuring' thing, you know that?"

"My apologies, dear lady. I was never a terribly good liar."

He didn't realize that Anna was trying to think about anything else but what Amon's words meant for her sister. Amon was certain she was alive... but for how much longer? And even if they _did _find Elsa... would it matter?

"Let's press on to Elsa's palace," she eventually said. "That's where she was supposed to be going, after all."

Despite some very mixed memories of the place, Anna had always thought Elsa's Ice Palace was a breathtaking construction, and it had been one that Elsa maintained for occasional retreats to get away from royal life, adding and expanding over time to cover nearly half of the southern face of the North Mountain.

It wasn't beautiful any longer.

Elsa had apparently reformed it into something more practical, resembling a heavily fortified keep as opposed to a palace, with walls of solid ice more than a foot thick. Even then, it looked like something had taken a massive bite out of the southwest corner, the wall there crumbled and jagged. Something had struck it with tremendous force.

"Oh God... Kristoff... look."

Kristoff was still looking upward at the damage, and assumed that Anna was as well. "I know, honey."

"No," Anna insisted, putting her hands on his cheeks, and turning his head down and to the right. "Over here."

Marshmallow.

Or more accurately, what was _left _of Marshmallow.

The ice monster was pulverized, shards of the twenty foot tall familiar scattered and crushed to the point that the only reason Anna recognized it was because of the half-remaining head resting in a light layer of snow.

Olaf sniffed, "I can't say we were friends."

"Because we weren't," Kristoff reminded coldly. Marshmallow had stayed in this part of the mountain as a custodian of Elsa's retreat, and that was about where Kristoff liked him to stay. Memories of being chased down the mountain by the rampaging monster didn't fade easily.

"But I felt a kinship to him, ya know?"

"No."

"And I _really _don't want to meet whatever did this to him."

Kristoff came up short. He didn't want to agree with Olaf, but didn't exactly want to _disagree _either.

Meanwhile, Anna noticed that Amon had stepped away from the scene of destruction, dropping into a cross-legged position with his back turned away from the ice palace. Gilgamesh dropped his head into his master's lap, looking up at the ember mage and whimpering.

Amon was thumbing his Dragon's Tear, mulling over dipping into meditation in the faint hope that Elsa was doing the same. But he knew it would be a futile effort... just like every night for the last six nights.

He knew Elsa was alive... but nothing else, and that worry was all consuming.

"Where are you, my love? Why won't you talk to me?" he mumbled glumly, giving Gilgamesh an absent-minded scratch on the head when the thermite hound whimpered again in concern.

Anna dropped to both knees, and said, "Your Dragon's Tear looks different than hers."

Amon shrugged, "It's crystallized blood of a dragon. There's no uniform shape it takes, and attempting to cut the jewel would lessen its power. It glows red because it reflects my talents. I'm sure Elsa's glowed a pale or ice blue."

"So, did you get yours from a dragon?"

Amon shook his head, "Indirectly, I suppose. My master's master was the last one to use it. As I understand the tale, _he _got it from..."

There was a moment of epiphany that clicked all the pieces together in Amon's head. He looked over his shoulder at the damage to Elsa's construction, then asked, "Anna, how exactly _did _Elsa acquire her Dragon's Tear?"

Anna blinked in surprise. "She didn't tell you?"

"It never actually came up, though in retrospect, I should have wondered."

"It was a birthday present that she received from Grand Pabbie and the troll tribe of the Valley of the Living Rock."

Amon's face almost immediately twisted in anger. "Take me to these 'trolls'. _Now_."

* * *

Amon didn't exactly have a high opinion of trolls, it turned out.

"Oh yes, stories and a few scattered tribes of trolls clash with nomads in Aqaba," the ember mage explained, "And I doubt northern trolls are much different. Schemers and thieves, the lot of them."

Kristoff understandably took offense. "Hey! They are _not _schemers!"

Anna guiltily poked her husband in the side, and said, "They were ready to wed us the moment we walked into the valley together the first time."

"Well... fine... but they aren't thieves!"

Anna bit her lip nervously, "Actually... Elsa's had to demand the return of _several _things missing in the countryside that wound up being 'found' in the valley..."

"You're taking _his _side on this?" Kristoff snarled, hurt by the betrayal. "Those trolls _raised _me when no one else would!"

Amon scoffed, "No doubt stealing you from your crib to 'raise' you, I'm sure."

Kristoff replied coldly, "No. My parents legitimately died from illness when I was a child. My uncle was an ice carver and only reluctantly took me in. These trolls gave me a home, which was a hell of a lot more than any human at the time could say."

Anna leaned into him, linking their arms and taking his hand, "And I for one am glad they did. Please excuse our friend in the back. He's arguably more worried about Elsa than the both of us. I'm sure he's willing to apologize for his assumptions."

"I'll save my apologies for when I learn more," Amon said darkly. "If I hear what I fear I will, I am _not _going to be particularly forgiving, and no... I won't explain myself yet."

Anna and Kristoff shared a worried look as their path led downward of the west face of the mountain and into the Valley of the Living Rock. Normally a place that was at least comfortably warm regardless of season, even the valley was blanketed by the malicious chill that came from the north. Neither of them figured that was a good omen.

The trolls were at rest disguised as boulders, as they usually were whenever they sensed strange visitors. Anna wasn't entirely certain _how _they knew strangers were present, and even now didn't feel comfortable asking.

Kristoff climbed out of the sled, helping Anna down while watching Amon like a hawk.

Truth be told, she wasn't entirely certain _she _liked the trolls all that much _either_. Yes, they once saved her life, and once you got to know them they were entirely friendly...

"_Anna!_"

She felt a crushing embrace around her thighs, and she yelped painfully as Bulda's cold, rocky cheek plastered against her stomach. "How is my favorite daughter-in-law! I trust the wee one is still going well. Oh, he's gonna be a strong one, let me tell you..."

Perhaps entirely _too _friendly.

Anna gently tried to push away and said, "Bulda, good to see you. Yes, the little one is still growing. Barely to the point you can tell honestly..."

Bulda was not one to be rattled, so it spoke volumes as to the visage of rage that Amon was projecting as he lorded over both Anna and the troll. Just that silent brooding was enough to cause Bulda to scamper three steps backward.

"Who is in charge amongst you?" the ember mage growled.

The trolls had been slowly unfurling despite Amon's presence, and the largest of them stepped forward, "I am Grand Pabbie, leader of this tribe. Who are you, stranger?"

"Someone very angry," Amon replied, smoke billowing from his ears, nose, and mouth. "Someone who demands to know how your pathetic, weaseling kind managed to come in possession of one of the most powerful natural artifacts known to mankind."

Anna stomped on his foot, though his expression didn't change, "Amon. Hush. And you too, Gilgamesh. Knock it off," she added to the thermite hound, who growled threateningly at a smaller troll that had approached. "Amon is an ember mage."

"So I gathered," Pabbie replied. "A rare sight up here. I haven't seen one since the first settlers. What brings a southerner here?"

Kristoff took over trying to cool the literally smoldering ember mage while Anna explained the tale. "He's looking for Elsa. They've been communicating through the Dragon's Tear you gave her. She recently disappeared, and he thinks that figuring out where your people got the Dragon's Tear can give us a clue as to where she is."

Pabbie lowered his head and said grimly. "I'm assuming this unnatural cold is a result of that disappearance, and not likely the queen's doing."

"We don't think so, no."

The old troll took a deep breath, and ordered, "Darf. Come here. _Now_."

A very small, hunched over troll nervously shuffled to the chief's side. Pabbie didn't give him the chance to talk. "You are going to answer this nice man's questions, do you understand?"

Darf nodded swiftly, and Pabbie pushed him roughly in Amon's general direction. Kristoff stepped aside warily, worried that the ember mage right now could probably melt rock just through proximity heat.

"Where did you find the Dragon's Tear?" Amon began gruffly, flames literally dancing in front of his eyes.

"I... in a cave."

"A cave."

Durf nodded frightfully, "Yes. A cave. Inside the Great Glacier Plateau."

Kristoff took a deep steadying breath. He had heard _of _the Great Glacier Plateau, far beyond even the North Mountain, and nearly twice as tall. No man had ever successfully scaled its full height, nor had anyone even _tried _in twenty years.

Amon chuckled spitefully. "A cave. All by itself, was it? Were there other valuables in there, perhaps? Gold... silver... treasures... rare jewels... those sort of things?"

Durf nodded slowly.

"While a Dragon's Tear certainly stands out to anyone who even has the slightest sensitivity to magic... you didn't take any of those other things, did you?"

The small troll shook his head timidly.

"Why?"

Durf gulped. That was _not _a question he wanted to answer, and it showed.

Amon knelt down, only so that he could stare the troll directly in the eyes. "Perhaps because there was something _else _in that cave. Something that scared you so much that you ran like a scalded cat the moment you saw it."

Dulf gulped again.

"Something like... _a giant?_"

"_It was dead!_" Durf shouted, closing his eyes and cowering.

Pabbie took a sharp breath at the admission, and Anna shivered at the murmuring of the trolls around her. She had only heard of giants in stories, and somehow the reality sounded _worse _than the fiction.

"Dead, you say?" Amon said, grimly mocking the terrified troll. "Did you put your ear to its mouth and check?"

"N... no..." Durf admitted. "But it wasn't moving, and it didn't move at all while I was in the cave."

Pabbie cut in, "The Jotun could go into long sleeps called torpor, Durf. Just because it didn't move doesn't mean it didn't know you were there. A giant in torpor can take some time to stir, but it knows all that happened in its presence."

"Surt..." Anna whispered to herself. "Were... were the old tales true?"

Pabbie dropped his head, "Probably not perfect recollections, but for the most part, yes, my child. Surt, the last of the Jotun, the dragonslayer. I remember those days. The great battles between giant and dragon. The whole of the land shook for weeks on end, the earth buckling under the hunts. Surt is the mightiest of terrors this part of the world has ever seen. If he has awoken... I fear for all that live."

Pabbie sat down heavily, and motioned for his human guests to do the same. "Please, I will tell you all I know of this giant. You must know what you potentially face."

Anna took the center, Amon to her left, Kristoff to her right. Pabbie breathed in deeply, and said, "Even among giants, Surt was exceptional. Fifty feet tall, with the strength of an army of men. His body is so attuned with the frost and the cold that he has become encased with a shell of icy armor that deflects even the hardest steel. He is the physical embodiment of winter.

It also explains this latest chill... a giant's magic is not like a mage; its an inherent part of themselves. And Surt's presence is so powerful that the clash with the warm summer air is no doubt what caused the storm that stirred our queen's actions."

Amon frowned. To have that sort of affect with just passive talent was frightening. But he had to press on. "Elsa is still alive somewhere. We can't be dissuaded, no matter how vicious and powerful our foe."

Anna bit her lower lip, relieved that Amon was determined to press on... considering that if any conflict with a frost giant was coming, the ember mage would no doubt have to carry the burden of that fight. "It couldn't be hard to find a giant, could it? So, further north, is it?"

Kristoff finally put his foot down. "Oh no. No way. The Glacier is no joke. Not even expert mountaineers have dared go there in a generation. _You _are staying here."

"But..."

"No buts! You're going to stay here!"

Pabbie shook his head, indicating it was a bad idea. "The temperature in the valley is dropping steadily. Within a day or two it'll not be suitable for humans. As horrible as it sounds, next to your ember mage friend is probably the most hospitable place she can be."

"Hah!" Anna crowed, triumphant.

Pabbie chided the princess, "But your husband is _not _wrong. The highlands beyond the North Mountain are the most treacherous lands you will likely ever see. The land that never thaws; the permafrost. Little lives there, and less survives."

"It doesn't matter. We go," Amon declared simply, "We have already wasted enough time."

The ember mage stomped away back towards the sled, and Pabbie's eyes narrowed. "Be careful with that one, dearies. He's _not _just some ember mage."

Anna didn't like the sound of that warning, "Is he dangerous?"

"I don't rightly know. But he's more than a fire conjurer. He keeps his second talent closely guarded. Not even I was able to identify what it is. Just be careful around him until he reveals those secrets."

* * *

Pabbie had not been joking, as Anna found out. They had to momentarily abandon the sled at the base of the rise to the highlands, as the icy near vertical shelf was not something that could possibly be navigated without a rope and pulley system. Kristoff recruited Amon to handle the duties at the bottom while he began the climb, leaving Anna to entertain the menagerie.

Gilgamesh had not climbed out of the sled since they left the Valley of the Living Rock, and was wary of doing so now, sniffing at the snow questioningly.

"Come on, puppy," Anna encouraged, "This isn't any different than the snow you've seen before."

Olaf danced happily across the surface, causing small plumes of snow with each footstep. "It feels almost like a pillow! You should try it!"

The thermite hound finally complied, only to drop straight through the seemingly ankle deep snow with a sizzle of steam, completely out of sight.

"Gilgamesh!" Anna yelped frightfully, momentarily drawing Amon's concern until a churning burrow of snow began to form in random, frequent turns through the lower plain, accompanied by happy barks and yips.

"Stop playing around! Come here!" she scolded, and the burrow stopped abruptly before spinning about and making a bee-line back towards Anna, stopping at her feet. Anna needed to reach down to her shoulders before she was able to get a good grip on the thermite hound, pulling him out... and this time, Gilgamesh tagged her chin to temple.

Anna dropped him onto the sled, used some snow to wipe her face, and at that point, Kristoff was tossing rope down to Amon to complete the pulley. "Anna! Bring Sven and the sled over to the base!" Kristoff called from the top.

Anna complied, happy that the reindeer had always rather liked her, because there was _no _chance that she'd be able to force Sven to anything he didn't want to, especially when she unhooked Sven from the sled, and started attaching the pulley ropes to his harness while Amon began _his _climb to the top of the ice shelf.

The two men then pulled Sven to the top, and used the reindeer to help pull the sled and the rest of the expedition to them as well. All eyes then turned to the north, to a landscape human eyes hadn't seen in about two decades.

It wasn't quite as flat as they expected, instead it was a slow even rise up to _another _glacialridge, one in which the top was obscured by heavy clouds. Though whether that was a result of the altitude or the frost giant's magic was unclear.

Though there was one way to find out.

At this altitude the air was dry, and the snow packed so hard that not even Gilgamesh's radiant heat did much more than slightly melt the surface. What little loose snow drizzled from above never got the chance to settle, blown into deep swept drifts in loose arcs around the higher glacier ridge.

Gilgamesh found a bit more fun and use with _these_, as he could bound through them and melt out smoother paths for the group to progress, Amon adding his own flame for larger snowdrifts.

Even then, it was treacherous going, the packed snow did not offer much traction, even with the mountaineering boots they wore. Kristoff and Amon climbed off the sled if for no reason than it was less weight Sven had to pull, as his hooves had an even harder time getting a good grip. The mountaineer was impressed with the ground they _did _cover while they had the light... the second ridge looming over them by the time he decided it was best to make camp.

Then night fell, and Anna was introduced to a very apt demonstration of a "frozen hell."

She curled up tightly against Kristoff, and even with that and both sleeping bags, one tucked within the other, inside a fur lined tent, she was _still _shivering violently. Even Amon's magically enhanced campfire wasn't even denting the chill.

"Wake," Amon ordered from outside. "Be ready."

Anna and Kristoff warily followed the ember mage's order. It was the dead of a moonless night at that point, the campfire offering illumination for about twenty feet. Yet both Amon and Gilgamesh were staring intently to the north, as if focused on something only they could see.

Olaf rubbed his eyes, and asked, "What's goin' on? Sven and I had finally gotten comfortable."

The reindeer huffed in disagreement.

"This cold isn't natural. I can feel the malice. Our giant friend is near," Amon explained. "Run. Quickly. I'll hold him as long as I can."

Olaf didn't understand. "Why? Isn't that why we're here, to fight this guy?"

The wind then gusted, ripping the tents off their stakes, and sending everyone else tumbling across the icy surface. Anna managed to keep her grip on Kristoff's hand as they were deposited into a snowdrift, Sven skidding right underneath them and Olaf spitting into thirds as he spun up and over.

Anna and Kristoff peered over the top of the drift to see the snowman reassemble himself. Olaf put his nose back into place, and said, "Yep. We should run."

Not that they would get that chance. A bone-rattling earthquake shook the world beneath them, the ice shelf shattering and causing everyone to fall towards the unknown below...

* * *

Gilgamesh was proud of his sense of smell.

Using it, he knew his master was to the south, though far below, too far for the loyal hound to drop safely.

His sense of sight was also keen, able to see the radiant heat that all living things had. His master's heat was still strong. He was alive. Hurt, but alive.

The other two humans, the female thing and the male thing, were also well, as their fall was less. Though they were also farther away, and the large hole made by the giant thing made getting to the non-magic humans even more difficult. The large food thing was also alive. While good in that the food thing was helpful for moving fast, it was bad in that while the food thing was alive, the humans would likely scold him for trying to eat it.

It would not be easy to reunite with any them. But if there was a way, Gilgamesh, loyal and loving hound, was going to find it.

The only path was to the north, a gap in the cliff, next to where Gilgamesh had been thrown to when the giant thing's hammer slammed and broke the ground. It went into the glacier, and Gilgamesh hoped that it would also head down as well.

The path did, at least the branch Gilgamesh took did. Down and to the south at the very first fork, part of a cavern structure where the water didn't freeze as quickly to ice as the surface. The loyal hound took that path until it forked again, one south and down... the other up and further to the north.

Gilgamesh could also feel magic, though the magic from the giant thing was mostly overwhelming and made sensing anything else extremely difficult. Though despite that, the loyal hound did indeed sense something else. It wasn't nearly as strong as the giant thing, but it was very strong nonetheless.

The loyal hound was torn. His master was to the south and down. But this unknown magic thing could be dangerous, and his master was hurt and might not be able to defend himself. Flattening his ears, Gilgamesh turned his head back towards the south. His master's smell was stronger, and he was moving.

With that in mind, the loyal hound decided that his master didn't need him immediately, and moved north to explore the unknown magic thing. Gilgamesh dropped his nose to the icy surface, sniffing to pick up any clues he could find.

It was human, and had traveled these paths often. As he inched closer, he caught a whiff of a sharp floral scent, certainly out of place with the ice and most definitely part of this unknown magic human's smell.

To his left, there was a small crack in the ice, about a human's width across, that expanded into a weird portion of the cavern. The walls were straighter and the ice made of blocks. Piles of glittery metal and jewels were scattered across the walls and the smooth, polished stone floor about a hundred yards in every direction. This was the work of very large hands.

Giant thing hands.

That giant thing appeared at the other end of the room, an open air doorway. Gilgamesh had heard the old earthy thing describe the giant thing, though hadn't listened too carefully. What the loyal hound remembered fit what he saw. The giant thing was covered in ice, several inches thick in places, from the tip of its white hair to the tips of its large leather shoes. A white chest length beard glistened across its bare blue-skinned chest.

It loosened a crude hide belt, and dropped onto a pile of bear furs, leaning back onto one arm and closing its eyes. Its chest rose and fell slowly, its breaths heavy enough for Gilgamesh to hear. The distraction was so much that the loyal hound didn't realize right away that the unknown magical human thing that he had been tracking had started to move.

The giant thing could wait. Gilgamesh had something more manageable to hunt.

The cavern the magical thing had taken was further along past the crack, and itself wound downward in a spiral. Gilamesh's quarry had stopped, and the loyal hound slowed, hoping that he could sneak up on the thing.

It instead snuck up on him. The unknown magical thing quickly lunged forward, several spikes of ice shooting towards him. The hound responded quickly, surging his inner flame to melt the potentially harmful projectiles.

The icy lance however, took him off guard, and Gilgamesh had to respect that he had been outsmarted in his last seconds of life.

But the unknown magical thing showed mercy, its weapon drawing short. Gilgamesh whimpered, sniffed, then looked up to finally identify his quarry.

"Gilgamesh?"

This magic human thing knew his name?

* * *

Elsa hadn't been sure what had been stalking her, but what she uncovered surprised her. It was definitely a magical creature, and the reason she had sensed it was most likely how it had been able to hunt her down.

The odd dog-like creature tilted its head, and whimpered again. This had to be Amon's familiar... it _had _to be. For as improbable as it could be that Amon had found his way here... it was even _more _unlikely that someone _else's _familiar had found her.

"Gilgamesh?" she repeated. "Is that your name?"

The dog's happy yip confirmed Elsa's hope, and her heart soared. She knelt down in front of the thermite hound and offered her hand. As he sniffed, she said, "I'm Elsa. I know your master, Amon."

The ember mage's name caught Gilgamesh's attention, it barked repeatedly, spinning about in circles.

"Is he here?" Elsa asked further, "Where is he?"

Gilgamesh stopped spinning, then turned his body to point back the way he came. He turned his head back and barked once.

"Take me to him!" she declared.

The thermite hound happily agreed with the order, initially charging back up the path, Elsa hot on his heels. But she pulled short once she passed the crack in the wall, the crack that led to Surt's fort. Where the Jotun now rested, _her _Dragon's Tear dangling from his slack fingers.

If she was quiet about it... she could get it back.

She still seethed over their clash at the North Mountain. How the giant had broken through her fortifications, taken her prisoner and stolen the Dragon's Tear from her. The remains of the cage it had attempted to hold her in still hung from the northwest corner. Her blood boiled whenever Surt had poked her cage and demanded she sing.

Then as the ultimate insult, when she _had _escaped... he had shown no concern or anger; that she was so far beneath him that she wasn't worth worrying about.

Gilgamesh's soft whimper caught her attention. He was obviously curious why she had stopped.

"Stay here," Elsa ordered with a whisper. "I need to take back something of mine."

The thermite hound obeyed, but reluctantly, as Elsa quietly slipped through the crack and into the fort proper. There was a stone table, low lying for Surt but easily ten feet tall, that she could use for cover out of the giant's eyes if he woke, but the last fifteen yards between the table and its bedding were out in the open.

It was worth the risk.

She debated between slowly moving, or sprinting and grabbing. The former won out... if the giant saw her it was probably over anyway. Her only chance was to be sneaky.

The Dragon's Tear was tantalizingly close, at this point the chain looped around the tip of its little finger. Too much longer, and it would likely fall to the ground.

Which it promptly did when she was just feet from claiming her prize, clattering on the stone with a majestic jingle like tiny tin bells. Elsa winced at the sound, but when the giant didn't move, felt she was safe.

At least, until the moment she touched the Dragon's Tear, and looked up to see the Jotun's ice blue eye wide open, staring down at her, his eyebrow staring down at her furiously.

So much for stealth and guile.

Surt was slow to rise, which gave Elsa the head start that no doubt saved her life, scrambling under the table and just out of the frost giant's reach as he dropped down to try and grab at her. Before he could pull away to try and circle the table, the stone slab abruptly dropped at one corner on top of his head.

With a roar that caused Elsa's ears to ring painfully, Surt scrambled away, and Elsa looked over to the corner to see Gilgamesh, in a plume of flame, apparently burning with such heat that it had weakened the stone table leg to the point that it could no longer bear the table's weight.

What an incredibly clever little creature, Elsa thought.

It was also the opportunity Elsa needed to continue her escape, dashing back towards the crack in the wall while the brave familiar charged the frost giant, his flaming body running circles around Surt's legs. Distracted, the giant tried to step on the little thermite hound, but Gilgamesh was too agile for the Jotun, nimbly scampering away from it and several following blows.

By the time Surt remembered Elsa, it was too late... she had lunged through the crack in the wall, and cried out, "Gilgamesh! Come here! Now!"

The familiar weaved and darted at odd angles to keep Surt from smashing him flat, extinguishing his flames as he ran between Elsa's legs then southward, Elsa scrambling right behind as Surt smashed into the wall, cracking it further and causing the entire tunnel to shake.

That tremor caused both Elsa and Gilgamesh to lose their footing, and with the slickness of the ice sent them both sliding at increasing speed down and south.

* * *

Amon rolled his right shoulder, satisfied that he hadn't broken anything. While he had managed to melt a landing pool in the ice to prevent what would have no doubt been a deadly fall, it hadn't exactly been a gentle or harmless landing. The impact with the cold water had knocked the wind out of him, and he must have clipped his shoulder on something during his descent.

He sensed Gilgamesh far above and to the north, no doubt trying to work his way to Amon's side. Eventually, the thermite hound disappeared from Amon's senses, though the ember mage suspected that was more due to Surt's immense presence dominating the area than anything to worry about.

Once he felt sufficiently dried out, he allowed himself to observe his surroundings. The cavern was remarkably large, possibly where melting water had pooled before it froze again. That theory seemed confirmed by the presence of several other tunnels, to the south, west, and one to the north at least forty feet above the ground.

Sounds from the south caught his ear, and he turned his head to make out Anna and Kristoff talking, their voices coming from one of the two southern tunnels.

"I'm _never _taking you past the north gates again," Kristoff declared.

"Oh, come off it," Anna replied, "It's not like it will be hard to replace your sled." After a beat, she added sheepishly, "Again."

"It's that I _need _to replace my sled every time I take you north that's the problem! What if the baby was hurt?"

"I feel _fine,_" Anna insisted with annoyance. "I hurt my _ankle_. If I'm so fragile that twisting my _ankle _would hurt a _baby_, having _your _bear of a child would probably kill me _anyway_."

Amon chuckled. They couldn't have been too badly hurt if they were arguing.

At that point, they emerged into the cavern, Anna side mounted on Sven's back with Olaf in her lap. Kristoff didn't seem to be limited by his legs, though he was holding his lower ribcage, a trail of white gauze hanging out from under his coat.

"Amon!" Anna replied, "I'm so glad you're all right!"

"Just a bruised shoulder," the ember mage replied, "Probably going to have a nice lump on my head, and I probably don't want to look at my hip. How about all of you?"

"Twisted my ankle," Anna answered, "Kristoff decided it would be a good idea to soften my fall with him. I think he's got some broken ribs."

"_Bruised _ribs," Kristoff corrected, though the pain he showed as he raised his voice suggested Anna's diagnosis was likely closer to the truth. "Nonetheless, it could have been a lot worse. We landed on an incline and sort of rolled to a stop." The mountaineer looked up at the massive hole in the ice above and whistled, "How did you survive _that_?"

Amon motioned to the pool he had created that was already starting to ice over on the surface. "Like that. Wasn't pretty, but it worked."

Olaf noticed Gilgamesh's absence, and asked, "Where's the dog?"

Anna was initially concerned until Amon gestured north, "Up there... somewhere. He's no doubt trying to find his way to us."

Then they heard the giant roar from above, the fury of the sound heralding a shower of loose ice from above.

"So... what is our plan?" Kristoff asked, the giant unable to be ignored. "We saw just what that thing was capable of."

"We still have to find Elsa," Amon said, his tone not suggesting it was up for debate.

"We don't even know where she is!" Kristoff protested. "What's the good in finding her if that monster kills us in the process?"

Gilgamesh's howl floated from the above north tunnel caught Amon's ears, and he shouted out, "Gilgamesh! Come!"

The thermite hound did that, at an extremely high velocity, followed by another body that he couldn't clearly make out. The two figures then landed with a plop into a large pile of snow that Amon knew had not been there seconds before.

Two human legs emerged from the pile, followed by a pair of human arms, then Gilgamesh's head, panting and barking happily. The thermite hound then lunged to his master, running in circles around the ember mage, clearly proud with himself.

The reason why pushed herself out of the snow pile mere seconds later.

Anna and Olaf's face lit up immediately. "Elsa!" they exclaimed in unison, rushing to the queen and embracing her warmly.

Kristoff shook his head, and his smile betrayed the apparent annoyance in his voice, "Speaking of the devil..." before following Anna's lead in welcoming Elsa back amongst the fold.

Amon, on the other hand, lingered back, unable to move as the voice that had ensorcelled him finally had a face.

Neferiti could rest easy, for Elsa was every bit the beauty that was worth defying the Faceless Prophet.

He probably looked like something drug backwards through briars at the moment. Not exactly his best foot forward, to be sure. Elsa hadn't yet caught his attention, and he took several steps back in the hope that he'd stay in the background for a while longer.

At least until Gilgamesh left the ember mage's side to finish the order that he had been given.

Elsa had been caught up in the welcome from her family and friends to the point that she had completely forgot about anything else until she felt a tug on the skirt of her dress and looked down to see the thermite hound gently pulling to get her attention.

Once he had it, Gilgamesh shuffled backward, spun, barked, then pointed his body before looking back at her and the object he was trying to get her to notice.

She had painted a mental picture of what she expected to eventually see. What was in front of her wasn't it. She wasn't _upset _by any stretch of the imagination, but the shock of the reality being so starkly different than the expectation rattled her, and she found the heat rising in her cheeks.

This was _not _how she wanted this meeting to go. She no doubt looked like a mess, and certainly not fit to be seen in public. She turned away in embarrassment so quickly that she didn't even notice Amon doing the exact same thing.

She ran her hands through her hair, which she normally did when she was nervous, trying to force herself to turn and face the man who come such a long way for her, but couldn't do it. Gilgamesh meanwhile was dancing between the two, confused as to why neither was petting him for being a good dog.

_ There she is._

_ There he is._

_ What should I do?_

_ What should I say?_

_ It wasn't at all supposed to be this way!_

Anna took Elsa by the shoulders, but the queen shrugged out of her sister's grasp.

_ There was supposed to be dance, just a dash of romance,_

_ Dining by candlelights, the stars and the sights!_

Gilgamesh was slightly more insistent with tugging Amon's trouser leg, but the ember mage was too lost in his thoughts.

_ How could I possibly face her? I must look like a wastrel!_

_Hardly triumphant, and no doubt repugnant!_

Yet in their pacing, neither realized that their respective turns put them right in a crash course with each other.

_It's a disaster in every way! __What can __I__ possibly say? _

_ Perhaps I should start with just..._

"Hello..." the two said in unison, surprised by their close proximity, both mages blushing furiously.

Anna rolled her eyes in amusement, both at seeing her sister so completely flustered and the ember mage that had been so doggedly sour reduced to a quivering mess of nerves.

Then whatever mood had been forged was shattered by another enraged giant bellow from above. Surt wasn't calming down, and if anything was getting more angry.

"Yeah, not to interrupt anything, but what exactly are we going to do with tall, blue, and furious up there?" Kristoff asked wryly.

Elsa's eyes narrowed in anger, "He can rot for all I care!"

Amon concurred. "I would agree. We aren't in a state to fight him at the moment. We'd need an army for that even at our full strength. Our best option is to retreat for now, and hope to muster support."

Anna jerked her hand backward. "Well, It's not going to be that way. That's a dead end as far as Kristoff and I could tell. I don't know if our ember mage friend could dig a tunnel very far through this ice either."

"That would be doubtful," Amon agreed, his eyes turning to the west. "Then I suppose our best option is to head this way."

"Can we swing back to the south first, though?" Kristoff asked. "Now that I have some more hands, I want to see what I can salvage from the remains of the sled."

Elsa groaned, "Oh no... again? I'll..."

Kristoff waved off the promise before the queen could finish it, taking the lead as he backtracked his path. "I'd rather you didn't, honestly. Instead, can we promise to stop having these adventures?"

The decision to backtrack was a good one, as the way west didn't lead to an exit right away, and fatigue demanded that the ensemble make camp. Elsa was looking forward to a night of somewhat comfortable rest compared to the last few days... until she saw Anna grinning at her as the younger sister quite deliberately joined her husband in one tent.

That left...

Oh dear.

Amon sensed her discomfort, and felt it himself. "Someone should probably keep watch anyway. I can wake you up in a few hours if you want to switch."

Elsa glared at him. "Keep watch from _what? _Believe me, I've been scrounging around this icy maze for the last week. The only thing around here is that giant, and believe me when I say we'd kinda know it was coming." She raised one flap of the tent, and ordered, "Get in there."

Amon bowed, "As you wish, my queen."

She slapped him across the back of the head playfully as he passed, then followed him. Mercifully, there were two sleeping bags. "Anticipating my rescue?" she asked.

Amon nodded as they both sat. "I had to. As long as your familiar was alive, I knew you were, after all. I... wasn't going to give up as long as you were."

Elsa nervously tried to smooth her hair, "This is _not _how I planned our meeting to be, just so you know."

"Really? Because I was about to say the reception was warm, but in the future, keeping the frost giant out of first meetings might help you secure more friends and allies."

He was rewarded by the laugh that he remembered and found so alluring. "I'll note that for the future. I always wondered what I was doing wrong."

Amon reached forward and took Elsa's hands. "No matter how... this first meeting is the most treasured I think I will ever have."

Elsa couldn't fight back the tears, "I didn't think I'd ever meet you. That monster... how he locked me in a cage... made me sing... wouldn't let me sleep..."

"But you escaped, and you live. And the One True God willing, you will continue to live."

"God willing indeed. You're going to have to teach me sometime about the differences between the church of Arendelle and the Aqaban faith. I would _hate _to say something horribly improper and insult your beliefs."

"_I _for one will not find much offense no matter what you say. _I _am the outsider, _I _am required to adjust to _you_."

Elsa grinned, and leaned forward.

He felt her lips, soft yet cold, on his. It was far too short of a contact when she pulled away, still with her alluring grin. "Feel cold?"

Amon blinked, and answered honestly before he understood what she was getting at, "I'm an ember mage. Cold is never a concern for... oh..."

Another short peck, and he grinned. "Hmm... who am I again?"

The third kiss wasn't necessary as far as Amon was concerned, nor were all the ones that followed that night. He already knew and acknowledged the snow queen had his soul long before that point.

* * *

Olaf knew that his relationship with the woman that literally conjured him to life was occasionally strained. That fact became painfully clear as he witnessed the absolute devotion that Amon shared with his familar. Olaf felt like he was failing Elsa, and he didn't like that feeling.

No time to change that than the present.

The snowman patted Sven on the back, and said, "Keep watch, Sven. I'll be right back."

The reindeer huffed dismissively, and Olaf took that as his opportunity to approach the tent the queen was in.

At least... until he found there was one small obstacle in his way.

One small, ferocious, and fiery obstacle.

Gilgamesh quietly growled in warning, the thermite hound curled up in front of Elsa's tent, his red eyes opening and bearing down on Olaf.

"Hey, Gilgy..." Olaf said soothingly, "Nice doggie... good doggie... I just need to get over he..."

The snowman had tried to step around Gilgamesh, only for the thermite hound to jump up to his feet and quickly impose himself between the snowman and the tent. Olaf tried the other direction, and Gilgamesh doggedly set himself in the path again.

Olaf tried to sound stern. "Bad dog!"

Gilgamesh didn't seem particularly concerned or swayed by Olaf's opinion of him, responding to the reprimand with a low, quiet growl and bared teeth.

Olaf tried reasoning with the thermite hound. "I know your master is in there, but so is _mine_."

No such luck. Gilgamesh was not going to willingly let Olaf enter the tent.

The snowman needed a distraction. But what? What did he have that dogs liked?

Then Olaf had a bolt of inspiration.

He plucked off his carrot nose, and waved it in front of the thermite hound. "Does the puppy want? Does he?"

The snowman swore Gilgamesh's eyebrow cocked in disbelief as it whined mockingly. The carrot _did _however draw Sven's interest, Olaf pulling the vegetable away before the reindeer could chop it in half. "Back off, furball," Olaf warned, pointing in warning.

And that's when he got a second bolt of inspiration.

Olaf pulled his left arm free, waving the stick in front of Gilgamesh. _That _got the reaction Olaf wanted, the thermite hound dropping down on his front haunches, his rear in the air, stub tail wagging. "Does the puppy want the stick? Does he?"

Gilgamesh quietly yipped in confirmation, eyes locked on the waving branch.

"Does he? _Does he_?"

Gilgmesh yipped again, spinning in circles.

Finally, Olaf threw his arm as far as he could, expecting Gilgamesh to bolt after it as he shouted, "Fetch!"

Instead, the thermite hound stopped showing any interest, huffed a plume of smoke in Olaf's face, then settled back down into a ball in front of the tent. Sven also returned to his original post, leaving Olaf without an arm and no recourse but to fetch it himself.

"Well... crud."

* * *

Gilgamesh's eyes were closed, but that didn't mean the loyal hound wasn't paying close attention to the cold snow thing. His master and Elsa (yes, the human woman was so important to his master that the thermite hound felt it was important to remember the woman's name) were not to be disturbed.

For the first time since Gilgamesh's creation, his master felt whole. Elsa completed a part of his master that he didn't even know was missing, and no one, be they human, cold snow thing, or even giant, was going to interrupt the conversation and closeness being shared.

Gilgamesh was a very good dog.


End file.
